


Family Changing Room

by JoshuaWoode



Category: Family Changing Room
Genre: F/F, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Mother-Daughter Relationship, Parent/Child Incest, Pedophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:15:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 92,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23787685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoshuaWoode/pseuds/JoshuaWoode
Summary: A new venue spurs a family to evolve.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 88





	1. Family Changing Room - Part One

_This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any existing people or businesses is coincidental. If a story involving sexual contact with minors bothers you or is illegal where you live, stop reading now. This is a very slow build and not hard core. If this will frustrate or disappoint you, it may not be the story for you._

### Family Changing Room

#### by Joshua Woode

#### Chapter I (Rick)

 _Family Changing Room._ I kept reading the sign on the door over and over. It had a stick-figure icon of a tall person holding the hands of two small people, one on each side.

We were taking a tour of our new local health club. It's a beautiful place, with two pools, indoor and out, and every modern exercise facility you can imagine. I was with my wife Carol, and our two daughters. Stephanie was eight and three-quarters (never to be confused with just eight) and Caroline was six. They were very excited about the possibility of having a pool to go to regularly.

I asked the young woman who was guiding our tour what the room was for.

"We don't allow children of the opposite gender in the regular locker rooms once they're age five. So, if you're a mom bringing your five-year old son, you can't bring him into the ladies'," she explained. "And you may not want to send him unescorted into the men's."

"Or a father with a daughter, same idea," she added, recognizing that she hadn't used the most relevant example. "And sometimes, families just prefer the privacy."

I watched my wife. She nodded and smiled, and said "That's such a great idea. We'd definitely want to take advantage of that."

I have to confess that I had an unexpected reaction. I didn't invite this thought into my mind, but it came anyway. I'll be in that small room with my daughters. My wife won't be with us - she's always too busy. And my daughters and I will undress together. All the way.

My mind raced ahead. And after we swim, we'll do it again.

Until recently, Carol had pretty much handled things with the girls. I was working long hours, and she relished the chance to take a break from her career and be with them full time. I loved them, of course, but hadn't been involved with things like bath time in several years. I hadn't seen them naked since they were tiny. And I couldn't recall them ever seeing me undressed.

Now my wife was returning to her law firm, and I was starting a high school teaching job that would leave me time to play daddy. The health club seemed like a great way to have things to do with the girls.

I was still processing my new-found feelings, so I let Carol make the decision on whether we should join. To my oddly anxious delight and to the effervescent joy of the girls, she said we should sign up for a six-month trial membership.

The next morning as we were getting dressed for work, Carol said, "You should take the girls swimming today."

"I should be able to do that. I can pick them up from school." I was surprised to feel my heart thumping in my chest.

"Do you think you'll use that Family Changing Room?" she asked. She's always had a sense of what I was thinking, which sometimes scares me. But she had her own motivation for the question.

I tried to be nonchalant. "I don't know. What do you think? They'd probably be okay on their own in the ladies'."

"I'm not comfortable with that," she said. "I mean, they've never been in a public place alone like that before. God knows what could happen."

"Okay," I said. "It's just..."

"What?" she prompted.

I stuttered a bit. "D-do you think they'll be shy around me? I mean, I haven't been very involved with them lately."

She laughed. "I think it's you who's shy. Don't be a baby," she laughed. "You're their father. They'll be fine and so will you. Just don't make a big deal of it." She kissed me and ran out the door.

I packed the girls' things in a little duffel bag. Matching one-piece swimsuits. Very conservative, chosen by their mother. But still so tiny. I was holding Stephanie's suit, and I thought it must be Caroline's since it was so small. Then I found Caroline's and marveled again. Packed some towels - I had forgotten to ask if the club provided them. Flip flops. Nose plugs. Sun screen. Inflatable water wings. I almost forget my own suit in the heat of the moment.

The girls were very chatty and giggled constantly on the way to the club. I was quiet. I honestly didn't know if I was nervous or what. I just wasn't sure how it would all unfold, so to speak.

We arrived and went inside. Stephanie was the first to recognize the looming issue.

"Where do we change, Daddy?"

"In here, honey." Pointing at the sign. Family Changing Room. Tall stick figure. Two short stick figures.

"Together?" She almost shrieked. Face turning bright red. Oh boy. Here we go.

"That's what Mommy wanted us to do. She wasn't comfortable with you going alone into the ladies' locker room." I used my most reasonable voice, looking around for other people. Fortunately the hallway was empty.

"NO. WAY." It was a final declaration. "I'm going in BY MYSELF," Stephanie asserted. And off she went. She closed the door loudly behind her, leaving Caroline and me standing in the hall, looking awkward. I heard the door lock.

Ten seconds later the door opened slowly. Stephanie's head peered out. "I need my suit," she said sheepishly. This had sort of ruined her grand exit, and I couldn't help but laugh as I handed her the duffel bag.

She emerged about two minutes later in her suit, a look of defiant victory on her face.

Caroline was befuddled. She didn't see what the big deal was. She was holding my hand and looked up at me questioningly. "Our turn now, Daddy?" This eliminated my momentary fear that she would imitate her sister, behavior that was all too common.

So in we went. I closed the door quietly and locked it.

It was a nice room, with padded benches and new, clean tile. There was a small open shower area with a curtain separating it from the room, but no dividers between the three shower heads. I turned around to get Caroline's swimsuit from the duffel bag. I'm sure this took no more than three seconds. Still, when I turned again to hand it to her, she was completely naked. Her sundress and white cotton underpants were in a small heap on the floor next to her.

I'm sure I blushed, and I know I stared, but she didn't seem to notice. The word that kept running through my mind was _perfect._ So perfectly proportioned, so perfectly smooth, so perfectly natural. She'd lost her baby fat that summer during her first season of soccer. Her hips were barely visible, but her tummy ran in a flat straight line from her navel to the cleft between her legs. Perfectly formed thighs met there, highlighting her pale bare lips. They must be so soft, I thought. It wasn't a sexual thing, not then at any rate. Just awe-inspiring.

I managed to hand her the bathing suit and she began to put it on. I stood watching her silently until she looked up, obviously wondering why I wasn't changing. I had to make a choice. So I chickened out.

"You can go wait with Stephanie while I change, honey. Don't go anywhere else without me though."

"Okay," she said. And she slipped out of the door. I changed by myself, with the image of her perfect naked body burned into my retinas.

We had a great time in the pool. The girls couldn't really swim yet, but they're both athletic and generally without fear. I needed two sets of eyes to accommodate all the demands of "Watch me, Daddy!" as various feats of aquatic daring-do were accomplished. Breath-holding, side-jumping-off, and underwater-upside-downess were all spectacularly achieved. We were in the water for almost an hour and were thoroughly pruned.

As it came time to leave, I began to dread another scene with Stephanie. I decided to talk to her to head off a meltdown.

"When we go back to change, Caroline and I don't want to stand outside dripping. We need to go into the room together. You can wait until we're done to change if you want." I thought this was a reasonable compromise and it seemed to mollify her somewhat. From this I guessed that she was mostly concerned with me seeing her - she'd certainly been naked with her sister a great deal. They still took baths together sometimes. She rolled her eyes, but didn't argue.

When we got back to the Family Changing Room, I realized that I didn't have many options. Stephanie sat on the bench, towel around her shoulders, shivering and facing away from us. I told Caroline that we should rinse off in the shower, so we went in with our suits still on.

"It's nice and warm, Steph," I chided her. She poked her head around the curtain, and felt the water. Her chill won out, and she stepped in under the shower next to me. Just like the picture on the door, I thought. Tall person in the middle, little ones on either side.

Now or never, I thought. But I lingered under the warm water another minute or so.

Now or never.

"Caroline, we should rinse off our suits before we take them home. So take it off and run it under the water, honey." She peeled without hesitation and held it up to the running water.

I did the same with mine.

I felt like I was on automatic pilot. I still remember the scene as though I were watching it from above. But there I was, naked in front of my daughters. I tried to act as casual as I could, to not look to see if they were looking.

But I couldn't not look, of course. By the time I did, Stephanie had gone back to the bench and was toweling off with her suit still on. Caroline was staring unabashedly at my crotch.

"Is that your penis, Daddy?" Very matter-of-fact.

"Yes, honey." I saw myself say it, after a very brief pause.

"It's funny looking. Mommy told us about it." And she went back to rinsing out her suit.

Just like that, Caroline and I reached a level of comfort with each other that made me feel relaxed for the first time that day. We got out of the shower, and I toweled her off, both of us still naked. I dried myself as she got dressed, and we chatted the whole time. Stephanie sat resolutely facing the wall. We left her there while Caroline and I walked out, hand-in-hand. "Remember to rinse off your suit, Steph," I called back over my shoulder.

My eldest came out about ten minutes later, hair pointing in all directions. She was very quiet on the ride back home.

When Carol returned that evening, the pool was of course the first topic of conversation. Caroline gave a full list of her accomplishments without punctuation.

"I held my breath and I jumped off the side and I swam but just like a dog so Daddy said it's not real swimming so I gotta learn to do it the other way and I did a flip underwater but Steph helped so I didn't really do it by myself and I saw Daddy's penis."

"Wow, sounds like you had fun," said Carol. She was looking at me and trying hard not to laugh. But neither of us could contain it. I think we both nearly choked. Steph rolled her eyes and said "God, you're SUCH a BABY!"

When we were alone, Carol asked, "So it worked out okay, the changing room?"

"I guess so. Stephanie was very shy though. She wouldn't change while we were in the room together. I thought she was going to throw a tantrum, so I didn't push it. Caroline was fine - I guess you'd already given them Male Anatomy 101?"

"I told them the basics, yes."

I related the exchange with Caroline in the shower, and she laughed. "I had the same reaction to my brother's when I first saw it. 'What a ridiculous thing! What's all the fuss about?'"

"Do you think Stephanie is too old for this? Should we let her go to the locker room?" I asked. It was a sincere question.

"I'll talk to her, then we can decide," she said.

Carol came to bed after tucking the girls in. She said, "I had a talk with Steph. She's really just shy about anybody seeing her at this point. If she goes to the locker room, there will be a bunch of strangers seeing her. Once she understood that, I think she feels like she'd rather go to the Family Changing Room. But I told her that it's not fair to make you wait outside. I think she's okay with it now."

I gave a non-committal grunt, not being entirely convinced. After a minute, she asked, "Are you okay with it? Did it make you uncomfortable?"

I considered my answer carefully. "Once I saw that Caroline really didn't care, it was fine. Nice, even. I mean, it made me feel more like a real father in some way, if that makes any sense."

She was thoughtful. "It makes perfect sense. I still value those moments when I take a bath with one of the girls. It won't last much longer, I'm afraid."

We share everything as parents. The love, the joy, the uncertainty, the fear. The fear of loss may be the worst of all.

#### Chapter II (Carol)

I love my husband. I truly do. He's smart and charming and kind and goofy. I appreciate the goofy part especially sometimes, since it's just what I need to lift my mood. He seems to be able to sense when goofy is becoming annoying and he kisses me at precisely the right time and in exactly the right way. Nobody's perfect, but he really tries and I adore him for it. Now if he would only try harder to keep his hair off the soap in the shower... well, we can all dream, can't we?

I never loved Rick more than when I told him that I wanted to return to my law practice. I'd had the completely blissful luxury of being a full-time Mom for the past five years, since Caroline had been born. Rick and I had been able to manage as two working parents with just Stephanie, but with two kids it just felt like too much. Rick offered to leave his beloved teaching position and take the higher-paying engineering job an old colleague of his had been pestering him about. This left me free to stay home with the girls. I was anxious about falling off the corporate ladder, but every day that I woke up knowing I'd be with my daughters felt like a gift to be treasured.

Of course I overdid it at first. As an attorney I'm in the habit of tracking my time and making the most of every billable minute. As a parent this translated into a relentless schedule of activities. Gymboree, bilingual immersion play-dates, pre-ballet before the girls could even properly walk, the full range of Baby Genius videos... you get the idea. As they got older it was ice skating and soccer and science camp and gymnastics and chess club. At one point Rick gave me one of his thoughtful looks and asked one of his typically simple but insightful questions. "Do they ever get to... you know... play?" The expression on his face said a lot. It wasn't just about me over-parenting. I also sensed that he was feeling disconnected. His work had become more intense and he was spending long hours away from home.

When Caroline entered kindergarten, things changed pretty significantly. With the house empty for most of the day, my brain wouldn't stay still. At first I used the time to plan even more family activities, and tried to get Rick more involved when he was home. But I also started sneaking looks at law journals. It was inevitable that I get caught. My husband is too clever.

"Let's take the girls to the park tomorrow," I ventured. "Just let them run. We can sit under a tree and worry when then fall down, but resist the urge to tell them to be careful." Rick was holding me against his chest in bed. I was relishing the feel of his breathing and the gentle thump of his heart.

He smiled at my tacit acknowledgement of his point about letting them play. "'The Free Range Parent enables more confident and self-actualizing future citizens,'" he intoned. I recognized the quote as the marketing blurb from a website I'd been looking at. Though I intuitively knew that letting the kids just play was a good thing, I still wanted the well-founded sociological research to back it up.

"You... are a snoop, and not to be trusted." I sighed and nestled my head into the crook of his arm.

"I'll teach you how to delete your browser history. Your secrets will be safe." When he teased, which was often, it was always gently. He went on casually. "Oh. And I can't agree with your position on Sarbanes-Oxley. It's just too easy for corporate governance to fall back into old habits."

 _Crap._ I reached down and pinched his leg, hard enough to actually hurt. "No fair," I protested. "Email is supposed to be private."

He looked wounded. "You left it open. I think you wanted me to see it. And owwwwww."

I thought about this for a long moment. "Maybe." I felt his warm hand slip into the front of my underpants. "Maybe I did want you to see it." I squirmed with annoyance and pleasure. He often tried to diffuse difficult situations by distracting me. "Rick... we should talk about this. I guess I have been thinking about it pretty seriously."

His fingers began working in the lovely and relentless way that he knew I couldn't resist. "I'm claiming habeas corpus, Carol. Say fancy legal stuff... you know how hard it makes me when you speak Latin." I couldn't help but giggle, but I wouldn't be put off the topic.

"Do you think it's okay, Rick? I mean, really okay?"

He smiled and kissed my neck. "I knew you'd want to go back, Carol. I didn't just marry you for your smoking hotness, you know. I love your passion for your work. It inspires me, and I can't imagine you being without it forever." I was listening so intently that I didn't notice he'd gotten my panties down to my ankles. Damn him. And bless him.

"Nolo contendre, pater familius," I murmured. "Oh fuck," he said, entering me urgently from behind. In that moment it was an elegant response. "Volenti non fit injuria," I offered. Rick groaned deeply and sank himself deepest. He had me, body and soul.

**************************

As much as my husband was my other half, it was really my daughters who increasingly defined me. Stephanie and Caroline and I had been together almost constantly for the past five years and I'd seen them slowly become little people. The process was amazing and delightful, and of course challenging and scary too. Girls are noisy and messy and smelly and angry and impossible, just like their male counterparts. I'd had a chance to compare as I was growing up with my younger brother, and sometimes we'd actively compete to see who could shock or gross out our parents more. I usually won. My daughters and I had formed our own tiny tribe that made us feel a part of something bigger than us even when we were screaming at each other.

So, the thought of returning to work left me feeling both excited and empty. Knowing that Rick would have the chance to get closer to the girls made it much easier. He seemed more than ready to return to the relatively sedate roles of teacher and parent. His old school was glad to have him back to tame the high school science lab. I forced myself to trim the kids' extracurriculars down to a more reasonable schedule. Rick appreciated this, but clearly had some lingering uncertainty about his ability to re-engage with them. "What do you think they'll want to... you know... do with me?" he asked. "Just be with them, silly." As I said it, I realized that he probably didn't really know how to do this without me. "You're their Daddy and they miss you and they'll enjoy just being with you." That seemed to reassure him, but his concern was still in my mind when I saw the ad for the new local health and swim club. Swimming was something we hadn't done for lack of a decent pool, but drown-proofing the kids was high on my agenda and it had potential to be a great father-daughter bonding experience.

When we toured the club, I was impressed. They were focused on families, not just the hard-core yuppie athletes who seemed to dominate most gyms. In particular, I thought the Family Changing Room was a lovely idea. I didn't think twice about Rick and the girls using it. My quasi-hippie parents had a casual attitude about clothes around the house, and I'd shared a room with my brother until I was twelve. Seeing male anatomy had done me no harm. In fact, it made me mostly immune to the silly schoolgirl fascination with the subject until I was ready to understand the benefits such anatomy could bring to a girl.

At eight, Stephanie was just entering the inevitable shy phase. Until recently she'd enjoyed joining me in the bathtub from time to time, but lately had been insisting on her own showers. "Baths are for babies," she pronounced one day, looking pointedly at her younger sister. It was sad to see her begin to separate that way, since they'd been quite close for the most part. Of course they sometimes fought like wet cats in a sack, but the notion that "Caroline is a baby and I'm not" was a new part of the repertoire. "You'll both always be _my_ babies," seemed to diffuse the situation, but Stephanie had begun to roll her eyes even at that. I had to content myself with Caroline's precious tush in my lap as I washed her very fine hair.

A girl's age is a relative thing. It operates within a range. Six years old can be three at times, and will try desperately to be twelve at others. Eight will be five when sleepy or scared, but will try on the airs of sixteen in the bright afternoon... especially at the Mall. God save us all, and especially our little girls, from the accursed Mall.

It was easy to project my unconcerned attitudes about family nudity onto the girls without really thinking. Rick reminded me that he hadn't been with them so much. They didn't have the benefit of a little brother who was unashamed to dangle about. And Rick seemed almost as shy as I expected Stephanie to be. It was cute. He blushed like a ten year old. I decided that some preemptive action was warranted before they started going to the club.

I love and hate the internet with equal intensity. Everything you'd ever want to know is at your fingertips, including things that you'll never be able to unsee however much you want to. As modern and liberated as I thought I was, I still felt unsure about having "The Talk" with my daughters without the support of an appropriate text. You have to be able to cite your sources! That had be thoroughly drummed into me in law school. So I gulped and Googled "sex ed for girls." After an awkward twenty minutes of avoid the porn and reading anxious and earnest blog posts by other mothers, I felt a little better prepared. I settled on a pretty basic book called "What's the Big Secret?" that seemed straightforward and not too detailed for my grade schoolers.

I'd love to tell you that I bucked up my courage and sat down with both of the girls for a serious but unashamed discussion about their bodies, and Daddy's body, and all that. I wish I was the Mom that can do that. With Stephanie though, I was pretty sure she'd flee from the room as soon as the topic came up. So, I chickened out. I left the book on Stephanie's nightstand one day when she was at school. I didn't say anything at dinner, trying subtly to read her facial expressions to see... I don't know what, exactly... that she looked enlightened? thankful? embarrassed?

After work the next day I felt a little defeated when I found the book under my pillow. I quietly knocked on Stephanie's door, book in hand, bracing myself. As soon as she saw me the eye rolling started. I tried to play along. "I know, I know... but... it's important you know some things, Steph, however totally awkward."

She looked daggers. "Mommmmmm... that book... it's for _babies_!"

I should have seen that coming. At least she'd looked at it. "Okay, okay, but... do you have any, you know... questions?" She didn't hesitate for even a second before saying "When can I have an iPhone?" My turn for eye rolling.

I'm a bit prouder of how I did with Caroline. She's a curious child and so far seems uninfected by her sister's reserve or peevishness. I still read to her regularly, so that same night we tucked in with the book and went through it page by page. She made some faces, and actually did ask some questions ("You... and Daddy... did... THAT?"). By the end she was sleepy, her head on my chest and sucking her thumb, apparently untraumatized. I felt like a real mother, something that was rarer now that I was back at work. I'd prepared my precious daughters for their journeys into womanhood. Or at least made it a little less likely that they'd think their father had some strange deformity between his legs. _Maybe I should start a blog_ flashed through my mind for just an instant, but I'm clearly not earnest enough.

#### Chapter III (Carol)

I had to prod Rick to get him to take the girls to the pool. He was still settling into his fuller-time fatherhood and seemed a little uneasy about the club. Perhaps he'd actually thought about things a bit more than I had. This became clear when at dinner after their first swim Caroline casually announced that among other accomplishments that day she'd seen Daddy's penis. Stephanie's horrified reaction was predictable, but I was proud of how Caroline had correctly treated it as not a big deal. We had a good laugh. Caroline's shrug and my calm reaction appeared to dispel Rick's concerns.

It did occur to me that Caroline's innocent openness was perfect at home but probably not something we should share with (say) her teachers at school. Her newfound knowledge of anatomy didn't need to be this week's Show and Tell topic. That night when I tucked her in I took the opportunity to fine tune her boundaries.

"You had fun at the pool today with Daddy, lovebug?" She nodded quickly as I lay beside her and tucked her under my arm. "I can't wait to go with you too." I kissed her hair. It hadn't been easy to find the right language, because I didn't want to scare her or make her feel that there was something bad happening. I went on carefully. "You remember that we don't go outside without clothes on, right?"

Caroline looked a little confused. "We weren't outside, Mommy... we were in that room," she explained.

"That's right, sweetpea... it was okay to be undressed because you were in the room with just your family." Caroline looked thoughtful and popped her thumb into her mouth. "So, just like we only get undressed with our family, we also only talk about being undressed with our family." Caroline nodded a little but still had a perplexed expression. I felt I had to be more direct. "We don't talk about Daddy's penis with anyone except us. It's not... well, polite... outside of the family." I waited, feeling myself blushing. She appeared to process what I'd said.

"Okay Mommy," she said quietly, eyelids fluttering. I kissed her cheek with a wet smack and tucked her in snug. Another Real Mom moment, I thought.

Looking back on that moment now, I realize the obvious. What I'd communicated to Caroline was that there are things that happen in families that you aren't to talk about outside of the family. It gave me a sense of comfort, knowing that we had established a little sphere of privacy around us. After all, there was nothing to be worried about. We hadn't created the Family Changing Room. We were using it exactly as it was intended. We just didn't want anyone to misunderstand.

Rick told me about Stephanie's refusal to change with him in the room. I was disappointed in her, though not too surprised. I'd been raised a bit differently and she hadn't been around her father all that much for the last few years. When I went to tuck her in she had her guns already loaded.

"I won't, Mommy. I'm not a baby. It's weird." Her lower lip was fixed.

I played The Adult. "Actually, the way you're acting right now is just like a baby."

She looked hurt, but I stood my ground. "Don't you think it's awful to make your father and sister stand outside just because you're too precious for them to see you undressed?" I'd told myself I wasn't going to say the next part, but I found the words coming out anyway. "Your father changed your diapers, you know." An appeal to her sense of fairness. I forgot for a moment that she was eight.

Of course it backfired. "Yah he did. When I was a BABY." Arms crossed. Face red. This wasn't going as I'd hoped, so I resorted to shameless emotional manipulation.

"You've hurt your father's feelings badly, Stephanie. He thinks that you don't like him. I know he's been away a lot, but he's at home now and he wants nothing more than to be closer to you."

It was true that Rick was feeling the price of his time away, and this appeared to sink in with Stephanie. Her eyes dropped and her face softened. She stammered a little. "I t-thought... I thought maybe he was away so much because he didn't like... us." I could tell that she'd almost said "me." There it was... the real issue. I should have known. My heart melted for her and I hugged her to my chest. She let me.

"That's the farthest thing from the truth there can be, Steph. He adores us and was trying to do the best thing for the family, working so hard so we'd have everything we need, and so that I could be at home with you all the time. And he misses you terribly. So you need to give him a chance. And don't be silly... wear a towel if you feel like you have to." I hoped to end on an easier note. She nodded and wiped her eyes surreptitiously, trying to pretend that she wasn't crying. I didn't let on that I'd seen.

"It's not weird?" she said quietly. Still not completely letting go.

"It's family, Stephanie. The Family Changing Room. It's why they made it. Only a baby would think it's weird." Gotcha. She slowly withdrew her lower lip.

I didn't tell Rick about Stephanie's feelings of abandonment. He didn't deserve to feel any worse than he already did about being absent so much. And deep inside, I was afraid that the girls would be saying the same things about me if I didn't keep some kind of balance. To say that I was feeling separation anxiety would be putting it mildly. I ached every day to be at home with my precious little ones, but it just wouldn't have been fair to saddle Rick with that all over again. I vowed to make it work regardless, to be Mommy and Lawyer in equal measures.

#### Chapter IV (Rick)

The next trip to the pool came a few days later. Stephanie came with us into the Family Changing Room without protest. Caroline was naked and in her suit in one continuous motion. Unlike the first time, I didn't hesitate to undress. Stephanie was obviously stalling, waiting for us to leave.

This time, though, she looked at me.

She had taken off her shirt, but still had her shorts on. As I slid off my boxers her gaze fixed to my penis, an almost visceral stare. I looked at her eyes. I'd never fully realized how like Carol's they are, rich and deep and soft, brown with flecks of gold. I felt the intensity of her look, took in her immaculate shoulders and her boyish chest and the flat slope of her tummy and where it inevitably led. In this I had the first hint of something different between us.

I pulled on my suit, blushing profusely. Taking Caroline by the hand, I led her out of the room. "Take your time, Steph, and come to the pool when you're ready," I said quietly as we left.

In retrospect, I understand the difference in how Caroline and Stephanie regarded me. For the six-year-old mind, the penis was just an odd thing that I had and she didn't, and it was involved in some vague way in making babies, as was her vagina. And they were both where you peed from, which made the whole thing pretty gross.

But at eight, through the wonder of television and friends' whispers at school and more understanding of what her mother had told her about the process, Stephanie knew that the penis was how people had sex. As she looked at mine, she was thinking about how sex worked. She was imagining how it could go inside of a girl, perhaps wondering what it would be like when it happened to her. I hadn't expected this from my eight-year-old daughter. Welcome to now, I guess.

At the time, I just knew that it felt different with Stephanie. I was pretty sure she wasn't going to exclaim to her mother that she'd seen Daddy's penis. But she was thinking intense, private thoughts. Her eyes had burrowed in, seeking answers. How does it work? How can that thing make a baby? It seemed that my little girl was curious. And somewhere inside me, hidden in an odd corner of my mind where I dared not shine any light, an astonishing and incongruous idea began to form. Hers eyes darting to the side, afraid to settle too long but returning. The shy blush when she knew I noticed. It touched something... the distance I'd felt being away from her... an old memory, perhaps... I couldn't coalesce these thoughts just then. But in some way, I wanted her to look.

It was a bonding thing, I told myself. Natural for us to be unashamed, her curiosity normal. What's the harm? I said in my head. I didn't begin to arrange things around this notion, not on purpose. But our next visit to the club was a turning point. The Family Changing Room was beginning to change us.

It was a Saturday, and the girls had two separate soccer games. Stephanie's game was at 8am, and Caroline's was at 10 in another town, so Carol and I had to divide and conquer. It's a mystery how parents with more than two kids manage. I volunteered to get up early and take Stephanie.

As we were heading out the door at 7:30 that morning, Stephanie asked, "Can we go swimming after?" The club was on the way back from her game. Carol and Caroline would be busy until at least noon. So I said, "Sure, get your stuff." Steph smiled. My mind raced ahead. It would be just the two of us.

The soccer game was the classic gaggle of screaming girls and parents. The girls moved as one huge cluster around the ball like a miniaturized, squealing rugby scrum. The parents yelled "Kick it! Kick it!" with an uncontrolled fervor that would have been more appropriate in the days of the Christians and the lions. A few dedicated soccer moms even kept score and would no doubt have sober discussions at home about how taking soccer seriously today would lead to success later in life. I fortunately don't suffer from these dangerous parenting delusions. I just wanted Stephanie to have fun, and I could tell by her Tiggerish bouncing that she did.

In the car on the way to the club, she was pensive. So was I. I don't think we talked at all.

When we arrived, as we walked through the parking lot, she took my hand. She hadn't done that in public in at least a year. If I took hers she usually tolerated it, but her growing independence made her avoid most overt PDAs. (Public Displays of Affection, which I was told in no uncertain terms were "pukable.") I smiled at her, and she smiled back, and we walked hand-in-hand into the Family Changing Room.

Stephanie was in her soccer uniform. We sat on the bench, facing the same way. I decided to follow her lead. She took off her sneakers, and I did, too. The dusty knee-high white socks were next. She pulled her uniform top over her head, and I unbuttoned my shirt and slid it off.

We talked about what we wanted for lunch. "McDonald's maybe." "No, I'm sick of that. What about Wendy's?" "It's pretty far away, and the wrong direction. Maybe we'll just wait until we get home."

She stood up. I stood up. She now realized that I was matching her movements. I hadn't really thought about it, but my actions spoke to her. _If you want to see mine, I get to see yours._ Pretty juvenile, I know.

She was blushing but still looking at me. "Maybe we can pick up a pizza." Her fingers at the waistband of her shorts. My hands undoing my belt. "That's a good idea. What kind do you want?" Pushing her shorts down. Kicking them aside. Looking down shyly. I stepped out of my khaki shorts. "Hawaiian I guess. That's ham and pineapple, right?"

Her underpants were light blue, a large Hello Kitty on the hip. They fit her snugly. I had a side view. Her proportions precise, her bottom concise, an idyllic curve, a nascent roundness. Perfect curves in back, perfect straight lines in front. I was in my boxers. I think they were plaid.

She turned to face me. "Ya, ham and pineapple. But Caroline hates that. We'll have to get something else too." Her face and chest bright red. Her eyes trying to get inside the fly of my boxers. I waited. "Maybe just cheese." "Ya, she likes that." She looked at the floor. I waited. She bit her lower lip. "Sounds like a plan, then." "Ya."

In one motion, her underpants were at her feet. She stood with her arms at her sides and slowly looked up at me.

After a moment my words came unbidden. "You're so beautiful, Stephanie."

I guess it was the right thing to say. She blinked, her eyes shiny wet. "I... I missed you, Daddy. So much... I thought..."

She stopped. She didn't fully voice her pain, but I felt it. I touched her cheek and a tiny shy smile spread, her cheeks crimson. We were quiet for a long moment.

She was waiting. It took me longer than it should have to understand. It was my turn.

 _Carol wanted this,_ I made myself think. _It's family bonding. They built this room just for this._ I saw myself drop my boxers to the floor. It was another of those out-of-body moments.

We gazed at each other, my daughter and I, both surprisingly calm after all the build up. Like Caroline, Stephanie's bare sex was a flawless, integral part of the landscape of her body. Not prominent, but not infantile either. Just the outer lips visible, highlighted by her tan lines. Her longer legs and body gave her a very different look from her younger sister, though. Caroline unselfconscious without her clothes was a beautiful, natural sight. Stephanie, just two years older, having willingly stripped naked as I watched, was intensely provocative.

She was studying me. Her interest in my penis seemed to make her forget her own nudity. Her eyes roamed over my privates. She bit her lower lip again. I think she was about to say something.

It was very fortunate that I was having the experience this way, feeling as though I were watching it from a distance, because it seemed to prevent my brain from connecting with the rest of me. Specifically, I didn't get hard. My penis behaved itself.

And I chickened out. Again. I said, "We should get to the pool."

We kept chatting about pizza while we pulled on our swimsuits. There were still some barriers, and more changes yet to come.

#### Chapter V (Rick)

Stephanie and I had a great time in the pool that day. A major source of tension had been removed when she'd finally let me see her undressed. We could laugh and joke again. The new tension that had replaced the old was still nascent. The sight of her wouldn't leave my mind, but I could put those images in a mental box and push them to the back of my brain. The box was wrapped all around with bright yellow tape, with big black letters reading _SHE'S YOUR DAUGHTER, AND SHE'S EIGHT YEARS OLD._

When it came time to leave she joined me in the shower, both of us still in our suits. She knew the normal routine - take off the suit to rinse it - but I could tell she was watching for me to make the first move. But by now we all know that I'm a chicken, so I waited.

As before, Stephanie seemed to realize that I wanted her to take the initiative. Glancing in my direction, she shrugged her arms out of the top of her suit and slowly peeled it down. Her back was to me as she bent to step out of it, giving me an astonishing view of her rounded bottom and a momentary glimpse of her pale cleft. She turned and held the suit up under the running water, looked into my eyes, and smiled. Her face told me what she was thinking: _See Daddy, I can do this now, and it's okay._ There was also a question framed on her brow: _Are you proud of me?_

It's better when I don't think. It's thinking that screws me up. I was so overwhelmed by her gaze that I just reached out. Her face was glistening with beads of water, her normally flowing auburn hair flattened around her cheeks. I gently put my hand on the side of her face and said, "There's my girl."

She beamed. Her expression cut through me like a hot knife.

I later thought about my choice of words. "There's my girl." In a sense, I was answering her question. _Yes, you did it! I'm very proud of you, because I know that you're shy and that it was hard for you._ But in another sense I was recognizing her as a new person. _Now that you're naked, I see your real self. When you're dressed, it's like a costume that hides your true nature. Thank you for letting me see you without your disguise._

The moment ended far too soon. She waited under the shower and watched as I stripped off my suit and rinsed it. I felt her eyes on me again, but we were both more relaxed. She bit her lower lip. I could tell she really wanted to say something, but just couldn't quite muster the courage. I wasn't sure I was ready to hear it, whatever it was.

"If we hurry, we can see the end of Caroline's game." I'm such a coward. We dried and dressed, chatting about school.

In the car the lip-biting resumed. I could see wheels spinning intensely behind her eyes. She finally broke the silence.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, honey?" _Please don't ask about sex. Please don't ask about sex. Please don't..._

"Do you really think I'm pretty?"

_Oh thank God._

"Of course, sweetie. You really are. I wouldn't lie to you." My sincerity and relief were palpable.

"As pretty as Mommy?" A very serious look accompanied the question.

My sense of relief vanished. Warning lights flashed before my eyes. This is a trap. Extreme caution required. What you say now could be used against you.

I thought for about an hour before saying anything, squirming under her persistent scrutiny. Okay, it was actually like 10 seconds. You know what I mean.

"Well honey, I think Mommy is the prettiest girl in the world." Safe so far. Stephanie looked a little disappointed, but nodded slightly. It was sortof okay with her for me to think that. I had her permission, but barely. Hadn't given her any ammunition to use against me.

"And you look so much like her, sometimes I get confused about who's who." She blushed, and laughed out loud like a little girl. Relief again.

"No, really," I went on, playing out the act. "I can't even tell the difference. It's scary."

"You're silly, Daddy."

"And you're beautiful, Stephanie. You really are."

**************************

The next day was Sunday, and we decided to go swimming as a family. Carol took the opportunity to check out the regular ladies' locker room. She took the girls with her. I went to the mens', wondering if we'd ever return to the Family Changing Room.

We met in the hall on the way to the pool. I hadn't seen Carol in a swimsuit in a while. Seeing her together with Stephanie, I could tell that in a few years my joke in the car might become quite true. Two pairs of deep brown eyes, matching oval faces, shared perfection of skin. Bottoms of different sizes but remarkably similar shapes.

My wife smiled at me but didn't say anything. Stephanie and Caroline were whispering to each other and giggling uncontrollably. I couldn't contain my curiosity.

"So?"

"So what?" Carol responded.

"How was it?"

"Oh. It's fine." When Carol says "fine" like that, it doesn't mean "fine." Like when I say, "I'm going to Paul's house to play poker" and she says, "Fine." Translation: "Don't wake me up when you come home."

I looked at Stephanie, who was having trouble walking due to paroxysms of laughter.

"What's so funny?"

Catching her breath. "Daddy, there's OLD PEOPLE in there."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Not old like you." My eyebrows arched further. "I mean REALLY REALLY old."

"What's wrong with that?"

"And fat," added Caroline, a bit late.

Stephanie and Caroline both simultaneously mimed sticking their fingers down their throats and vomiting. Carol gave them the icy look that was still effective in settling them down. "You're being very mean," she chided.

"It was SO GROSS," said Stephanie, a bit more quietly.

"It's just how people are. Everybody gets old, so you shouldn't say things like that."

"That doesn't mean we should have to LOOK AT THEM," said Stephanie. It's amazing how caustic an eight year-old can be.

Carol looked at me for help. "You guys will look like that someday," I ventured.

"I so totally will NOT!" retorted Stephanie. Carol gave me a glare that indicated she didn't appreciate my comment very much, either. We left it at that as we reached the pool.

After swimming, we made our way back down the hall. Stephanie and Caroline started heading for the Family Changing Room. Carol stopped and considered. "This way, girls," she said after a moment, gesturing towards the ladies'.

"Oh God Mom. Do we have to?" Major scrunchy faces from both girls.

She looked at me. I gave her my best 'It's entirely, completely up to you' shrug.

She sighed and walked towards the Family Changing Room. As the girls disappeared inside the door ahead of us, she said, "I'd be so embarrassed if they made a scene like that again. They're not ready to be in the locker room by themselves, for sure." I just nodded.

Carol and the girls talked busily while they showered and changed. I was pretty much ignored, which was okay with me. I waited until the three of them were drying off before I went into the shower. I was discreet as I toweled off and slid into my clothes. Carol smiled at me a few times. I made eye contact with Stephanie once. It felt like we had begun to see into each other's thoughts. _It's really neat to have Mom here,_ she was thinking. _It is,_ I thought back. _I almost wish she wasn't,_ her face replied. We conversed and agreed without speaking.

That night Carol said, "I was so disappointed with the girls today. Don't let them go to the ladies' locker room by themselves. We'll get complaints." I nodded. I'm good at nodding when appropriate.

"And the Family Changing Room seems fine," she added. This time, I could tell that "fine" actually meant "fine."

#### Chapter VI (Carol)

I was happy to see that Rick and Stephanie showed every sign of bonding over the next few weeks. Rick was visibly more relaxed. He appreciated being back in his preferred profession and playing a meaningful role in the kids' lives. Stephanie appeared happy and seemed to let go of her excessive modesty. The pool became a regular part of the routine, and The Family Changing Room proved to be a Godsend. My one experimental visit to the Ladies' locker room with the girls showed beyond doubt that they weren't ready to be left to their own devices there.

Saturdays were soccer days, and often we had to divide and conquer to get to both girls' games. When it was Rick's turn to take Stephanie, it often left me some precious time alone with Caroline. It was a particularly muddy Saturday when Caroline and I got back from her early game to find that the other half of the family had already departed. We were both a mess, her more than me as all the kids had been slipping and sliding on the wet field. Fortunately six year-olds are low to the ground and the falling became more a source of giggles than of injuries.

I felt an urgent need to be clean and a desperate need to snuggle my youngest child. It had been a long week at work. "We need an emergency bath, love bug. I don't even want these clothes in the house. Let's just leave them in the laundry room."

Caroline kicked her sneakers off onto the unruly shoe pile in the hall. My sandals followed and we padded off to the nearby laundry room. Her dripping clothes were in a pile on the floor before I had my top off. I smiled at her perfect little round face, filthy though it was. I slid off my shorts and discovered that I was wet to the skin. It felt natural to shed the rest too, and I had a moment of pride in the comfort my daughter and I had in our bodies. Hers, a picture of innocence, unblemished and soft, with a tummy that still rounded out just a bit. Mine, a mother's body, far from perfect to begin with (though Rick always corrected me when I said such things) and still bearing the signs of giving birth... but well-maintained, at least. Going to the pool regularly had lots of benefits, and I felt as toned as I had been since college. I scooped up my youngest daughter and carried her bare bottom in the crook of my arm up the stairs to the bathroom.

We stood in the tub and I rinsed us off with the shower head before filling it with water hot enough to tingle. I felt a deep sigh release from my chest as we settled in up to our necks, Caroline laying against me on her side. One small hand fell naturally onto my left breast. I was thankful that mine were small. Seeing what happened to the big ones as they aged wasn't appealing to me and I couldn't help but imagine that it wouldn't appeal to Rick, either. My mother's had been much larger and when I was little they'd made her seem like something of a different species to me, rather than something I would grow up to be. Mine didn't seem to intimidate the girls, and I found that to be a good thing. The fact that I kept fully shaved from the waist down had similar benefits. It was easier for my young daughters to identify with me. Rick seemed to like it too, which led to some very nice extended episodes appreciating his lovely tongue with my fingers tangled in his hair.

Immersion in the warm tub brought some of these other warm thoughts to my mind. I'd been traveling the week before and hadn't had much alone time with Rick. I loved him and I needed him, especially when things got intense at work. His touch heals me in ways nothing else can. When he enters me it feels as though I've always been empty until that moment, that the fullness is something perfect, something intended. I've never thought it to be an admission of weakness or incompleteness on my part to say that I need his cock. Yin and Yang are meant to go together. They fulfill each other.

I felt Caroline's small hand move over my chest and I looked to see her tentatively extending a finger to touch my nipple. My wandering mind had evoked a physical response. "Pointy," my daughter astutely observed. I smiled, "Yes, sweetpea... sometimes they do that." She nodded a little, her smooth cheek against my shoulder. "That's cuz they make milk for babies." She remembered The Talk, at least most of it. "That's right, honey. They did, for you and for Stephanie."

Caroline nodded again. "Ya Mommy. I remember."

I was surprised. When Stephanie had been born, I'd still been at work. Nursing her was something I was committed to in spirit, but it was difficult. I was very sensitive and she wasn't gentle and I was always pressed for time, so we'd struggled through the first six months. I continued to express milk for her for a few months after that, but I was frankly relieved when she was fully weaned. I'd done my best.

When Caroline came along and I became a stay-at-home Mom it was very different. I had the time and patience for both she and I to learn how she could feed regularly and comfortably. It gradually became pleasurable for me. Oxytocin is a very nice drug indeed. Rick reaped major benefits as well because after I fed Caroline I would often shamelessly jump his bones. Of course I researched it. About half of women who breastfeed experience some level of arousal as a result. It's a natural thing. And regardless of the childbearing hormones, having my nipples sucked has always made me horny. My wonderful future husband discovered this about me when we were dating in high school and has exploited it ever since.

So I'd been in no hurry at all to wean Caroline. I fed her regularly until she was one, and allowed her to nurse when she liked after that. When she turned two the frequency had diminished quite a lot and I thought it was largely behind us. But then Stephanie started preschool and I found myself alone with Caroline for a few hours each day. I think we were both feeling the absence of her older sister, and it seemed to spur a need for more closeness. This manifested as Caroline wanting to nurse more often, and I wasn't adverse to it. She'd ask a few times a week until she was a little over three years old before she seemed to lose interest.

I'd assumed that Caroline was still too little to form permanent memories from those times. Apparently not.

"What do you remember, love bug?" I ventured, not wanting to lead her on.

"I 'member that when Stephanie went to school that sometimes we did it and you said we can only do it at home." Her slender index finger was now gently poking at my stiffened nipple, innocently exploring as we talked.

I winced a little at the last part of this memory. I had said that to her. As much as I was an open-minded mother, I didn't trust the other mothers in our circle to be non-judgmental about my nursing a three-year-old. "If they're old enough to ask for it, they're too old to do it," I recall one of them saying in response to an article about breastfeeding beyond infancy. Seems I'd been promoting the idea of family secrets even then.

"I 'member it was nice," Caroline went on, simply.

I smiled down at my lovely daughter. "It was nice, wasn't it?" I gave her bottom a squeeze under the water.

I'm not sure how to describe what happened that day. I honestly don't know if I encouraged her. If I nudged her head. If I smiled in the way I used to when inviting her to suckle. If I turned slightly to present myself to her. What I do know is that I felt her mouth close on me, on my right nipple that somehow was in just the right place. I looked down and found her eyes looking up to mine, an expression of curiosity and some doubt... and bliss, I think... a small flutter of her eyelids, her sleepy happy face from when she was three. It transported me, back in time and back to that bliss. I gasped and she looked worried... paused... but didn't withdraw.

I suppose I should have stopped her. I could have done it gently and not lose the closeness of the moment. I could have told her that she was being silly and kissed her forehead, and we would have had a nice giggle.

Instead my mind recalled a memory. Caroline was about one and I was feeding her in bed, lying on my side. She was half asleep and only suckling on and off. A perfectly peaceful moment, made even nicer by the feeling of Rick sliding into bed behind me. He drew back my hair and kissed my neck, his hands naturally wandering. I felt him caress my bottom. "You are the most beautiful mother there ever was," he whispered. "Say that to my stretch marks," I whined, reflexively. He pinched my butt, hard enough to hurt. I winced and squirmed, but I understood. He doesn't let me talk myself down.

His hand moved lower and probed between my legs. He felt my heat and wetness. I felt his breath quicken. In the next instant he was fully inside me, our bodies locked together seamlessly. I gasped. Caroline stirred. "Rick..." I began. He twisted my clit in his fingers in response. I trembled. I tried again. "Rick... we..." He withdrew his hardness a little. I closed my eyes and reached back for him, abandoning my protest... just then, emptiness was unthinkable. We fucked silently, breath catching in our throats. I came in waves that seemed to never stop, more intensely than anything I'd ever experienced. Caroline stirred again, eyelids open a slit as she dozed. With him still inside, I panted in a whisper. "You are a VERY bad man," I said. He looked at me, and over my shoulder at our daughter.

"I need you, Carol. And I want you. Completely and without limits. Nothing will change that and you're not allowed to forget it, not ever."

I nodded and sighed, and held Caroline close to my chest as he slowly softened within me. Needed and wanted. Bliss.

My attention returned to the present as a small tooth grazed my swollen nipple. Caroline's eyes were unfocused, her cheeks moving only slightly. I ran my fingers through her wet hair. I spoke very quietly. "Careful, sweetpea." And then, after a long moment. "You know there won't be any milk, honey... it's all gone." She looked a little disappointed. Still, in a few seconds, her suckling resumed. My free hand slipped under the water and down my tummy, feeling the lingering marks of motherhood in my flesh. And lower, warmth. Rick's fingers... my fingers. I let my eyes drift closed. We stayed in the tub until the water got chilly.

Is it wrong to want closeness? I think it's a basic human need, maybe the most powerful of all.

I really was happy for Rick and how he'd re-engaged with the girls. In particular he and Stephanie seemed to have found each other. It was sweet to see how they joked and smiled now, more comfortable together than they'd ever been. She was definitely becoming Daddy's girl, and why shouldn't she? What girl doesn't go through that phase?

Being away from home for ten hours a day made me deeply appreciate the family time I'd had for the last five years. I missed it terribly, and it started to work on me in bad ways. Could it be that I was actually jealous of the relationship my eight year old daughter was forming with her father? That would be ridiculous, and dumb, and very unlike me. Still, I couldn't deny that those thoughts jabbed themselves into my brain at times, especially when I was tired and stressed from work.

That's how I rationalized my behavior with Caroline. It felt selfish and strange, but I told myself that I needed to be closer to her as the rest of my family seemed to be slipping further away. She was my baby, and I wanted her to be my baby forever. There are mothers who nurse their six-year-olds. An increasing number. And my arousal, that's natural too. I hadn't let Caroline see anything... my hand was under the water. No harm done, and it made us both feel warm and cozy and happy.

The next morning was Sunday and we stayed lazy in bed as we woke up. Rick curled up around me and cupped my breasts from behind, as he was wont to do. It was always a most welcome source of warmth. This time though, I winced a little. I was sore.

Rick looked at the calendar. He knew my cycles as well as I did, bless him. He looked at me thoughtfully.

"It's not... yet, is it?" he asked, gently.

I shook my head. A little blush of guilt that I hoped he didn't see.

"You're not..." he started. I read his mind and quickly said, "No, it's not that." I was not pregnant, I was sure.

I lied. It wasn't the first time. Whenever I did it, I always told myself it would be the last. Rick looked concerned so I had to say something. I blamed it on work, which I told myself was true in a sense.

"It's the damn work clothes. I'm not used to them again yet. So be gentle with me, you barbarian." I meant it in many ways.

Rick nodded and kissed the back of my neck. He made a butchery of Arnold's Conan voice. "I miss you, my Amazon queen. Your conquests bring us honor and treasure, but you remain the sole object of our devotion." His head went under the covers and worked its way down my body with little kisses. I laughed and tried to push him away. He persisted... wedged my thighs apart with his scratchy chin. I gave myself over and rode his tongue like a Mongul girl astride a pony galloping on the steppe. (Goofy sexual metaphors can be hot when someone's licking you. Don't judge.)

#### Chapter VII (Rick)

Without ever talking about it, Stephanie and I had negotiated the rules of a game that we played whenever we went to the Family Changing Room. I would watch her, and follow her actions. This gave her the power to decide how and when our clothes came off and went back on. As she fully understood that I was ceding these decisions to her, she gradually became bolder.

I didn't really have an agenda in playing this game. I wanted her to feel comfortable. She would never feel like I was pressuring her. It would kill me to have anything like that come between us, regardless of what else happened.

But I couldn't entirely hide (or hide from) the other prominent thought in my brain. I enjoyed seeing Stephanie naked. I was in the shower at home when this idea first fully formed itself. I was washing my hair and closed my eyes to rinse. The image I found painted inside my eyelids was Stephanie in the Family Changing Room. She was bent over, her back to me, stepping out of her swimsuit. Her legs were just far enough apart that the lips of her smooth sex peeked out between her legs.

I was on my morning testosterone high. The image sent a jolt straight to my cock. My eyes popped open, leading to a painful curse-ridden few minutes while I got the soap off of my stinging corneas. Through it all I was as hard as glass.

I've always been pretty rational. I mean, I can rationalize with the best. At some level I knew that I should have had a feeling of self-loathing. But I didn't. I hadn't done anything wrong. Guys have all kinds of fantasies all the time. Brittany Spears dresses up like a schoolgirl and sings "Hit Me Baby One More Time." I can't control what I think. It's not like I'm going to molest her.

So it seemed okay to me that I liked to look at my daughter naked. I couldn't fully conceal this from my daughter. It must have been obvious from the way I looked at her. She loved knowing that I found her beautiful, and she understood that when she took off her clothes I thought so even more. At this point, neither of us really thought beyond this simple exchange of visual and emotional intimacy.

And so Stephanie began to play our new game with increasing enthusiasm. On our next visit, I noticed that she undressed down to her underpants before unpacking her swimsuit from her backpack. I kept pace, stripping to my boxers before opening my own bag. We talked about the new version of High School Musical while we rummaged for our suits and towels. I waited as she turned to face me. She reached for the waistband of her panties, and a few seconds later I hooked my thumbs under the elastic of my boxers. It was almost like a game of Simon Says.

We were now able to regard each other in a more calm, measured way. No need for stolen glances when she knew that she could see as much of me as she wanted. Her eyes still rested mostly on my penis, but they strayed elsewhere as well. I'm in respectable shape, so hopefully she wasn't recalling her experience in the ladies' locker room.

I drank in all of Stephanie's tiny, perfect form. So flat in front, so rounded in back. I traced the inner line of her slender legs up to the cleft where they met, and up over her elegant tummy, across her boyish chest. I lingered in the soft warm pool of her eyes and waited until she pulled on her own suit to step into mine.

On our arrival two days later, Stephanie dropped her backpack on the bench and then proceeded to take off every stitch before opening it to retrieve her suit. As I dutifully followed her lead, I smiled with the realization that she was gradually extending the time that we were naked together.

When we returned from the pool that day, Stephanie stripped off her suit immediately and carried it with her into the shower. We'd always worn our suits into the shower before, taking them off only at the last to rinse them off. As she skinned it off her lithe body, she gave me a defiant look. _I'm in charge,_ she was saying, _so drop your pants._ I did as I was told.

Since Caroline was with us, we didn't talk about these developments. They formed an unspoken language of their own. It was a language rich with trust, and love, and butterflies in the stomach, and curiosity, and daring and nervousness and uncertainty. And increasingly, for me at least, it was a language of desire.

#### Chapter VIII

It was bound to happen. Up to this point there had still been something surreal about our experiences in the Family Changing Room. With Caroline present, the unspoken interaction between Stephanie and I was almost a separate reality. I was able to keep my emerging feelings at a safe distance.

The next Saturday was another split soccer schedule for the girls. Carol had worked late the night before, so I took the bullet and got up early to take Steph to her game. As we were getting ready, I called across the hall to her room.

"Bring your stuff if you want to swim after."

She stepped into her doorway to answer me. She was wearing only her underpants.

The sight was jarring to me. It was the first time I'd seen her in any state of undress at home since she was much younger. She smiled. Her eyes said, _See Daddy, I can do it here, too._

"Okay," she said. We looked at each other for a good ten seconds before returning to our tasks.

After her game (which they actually won, I think) we arrived at the pool. As she had before when we came there by ourselves, she took my hand in the parking lot. As her fingers intertwined with mine, my mind flashed back to the image of her in the hall that morning. I closed my eyes briefly to get a better view of the memory. As I did, my body started to betray me.

I mentioned that Carol had worked late the night before. In fact she'd had a very busy week, and we hadn't made love since the previous Sunday. This was unusual for us. We generally couldn't keep our hands off each other for more than a day or two. I was running at an abnormally high hormone level.

I felt it coming on and pretty soon realized that I wasn't going to be able to do much about it. This wasn't going to be a short, passing little bout of swelling. This was going to be one of those monstrous, insistent, impossible to ignore hardons. An erection for the ages. Immune even to thoughts about getting kicked in the nuts and nuns that look like Pete Rose.

By the time we reached the door to the Family Changing Room, I was so stiff I had trouble walking. Fortunately I was wearing my favorite khaki shorts which have some room to spare. My sevenish inches felt like ten. Somewhat constrained by my boxers, it extended down my leg in a most uncomfortable and awkward way. (No, I never measured myself. Carol had insisted on doing it one night in college when we were high. She's always been good for my ego.)

Stephanie tossed her bag on the bench and quickly pulled her soccer jersey over her head, chattering away about some girl on her team who used to be her best friend but wasn't anymore. I don't remember why the falling out occurred, as I was having trouble listening. There was blood rushing through my ears, which is amazing since I really felt like all the blood in my body was in my cock.

Stephanie looked at me. My turn to take off my shirt. So I did, more slowly than usual, trying to buy time. We sat on the bench and took off our shoes. I was able to use this moment to surreptitiously adjust myself so that my cock was up against my belly. Sweet relief from pain, but it did nothing to reduce the swelling.

Stephanie stood up in front of me. In one motion, she took down her soccer shorts and her underpants together and stepped out of them. Now totally naked, she gave me the look. _Your turn, Daddy._ No need to say it out loud.

I tried to distract her by asking a few questions about her friend. She gave me short answers, and continued to give me the look. We fell silent. Her eyes showed disappointment. And finally she broke the rules, giving voice to our tacit agreement.

"What's the matter, Daddy?"

I looked at the floor, knowing that I was bright red.

"I can't right now, sweetpea."

"How come? It's your turn."

"I know."

She bit her lip. "Are we being bad, Daddy?"

"No, honey. It's not that."

"Am I bad because I want to see it?"

That didn't help. I shook my head but didn't say anything. Her disappointment was turning to guilt and sadness.

"I won't tell Mommy," she blurted. "I'm not a baby like Caroline."

It surprised me to hear her say this. I hadn't been thinking in those terms, and it was shocking to realize that Stephanie had been. Was she really old enough to see her mother as a rival? For a moment, the notion of Carol discovering the nature of our game had the promise of deflating me. But when I saw the look on Stephanie's face, I knew that she completely meant it. This game was just for us. Blood rushed back to my penis and it spasmed, releasing a substantial stream of precum. I felt the warm thin liquid diffuse into the waistband of my boxers.

I looked her in the eye. "We haven't done anything bad, Steph." Not yet, I almost added.

"So what's the matter, Daddy?"

I had to decide whether to break our trust. In the end, I couldn't.

"My penis is hard." I heard myself say it, softly but clearly.

She looked confused. "What do you mean, Daddy?"

A second later she figured it out. "Oh," she said flatly, cutting off any response.

I guess Carol had told her enough about the mechanics that she made the connection.

I saw the realization spread from her wide eyes into a deepening glow on her cheeks. The red tide moved over her chest and all the way down her legs. She looked almost sunburned from a long day at the beach. She folded her arms in front of her, hiding herself. At the same time, her eyes searched my crotch. Now that she was looking, she saw the evidence outlined in my shorts.

"Oh."

"Ya," I said. "I'm sorry." I didn't know what else to say.

She nodded a little, looking very pensive, and went back to the bench. She pulled on her swimsuit and headed for the door. As it was closing behind her, she glanced back. I was still sitting on the bench, looking embarrassed and confused. She hesitated for a moment before coming towards me. She quickly bent over and kissed me on the cheek, and then ran for the pool without saying a word.

I've never loved her more than I did at that instant.

#### Chapter IX

Stephanie left me sitting alone on the bench in the Family Changing Room. I didn't know what to make of her reaction. I closed my eyes as I attempted to process what had just passed between us.

My body was still in control, so the images that appeared in my mind weren't helpful in thinking things through. I saw Stephanie in tight pink bikini underpants, smiling at me from the doorframe of her bedroom that morning. I saw her strip off her shorts as she stood next to me just a few minutes ago. I saw her earnest face as she said "I won't tell Mommy."

I noticed with interest that my shorts were around my ankles and my cock was in my fist. As I looked down, the first shot of cum hit me in the face. That hadn't happened since I was in college. I had to stifle an animal groan that welled up in my chest. The orgasm rolled over me in three waves, each shorter but sharper than the last. I honestly thought I was going to pass out. I lay back on the bench and gasped for air. Lights were flashing in front of my eyes.

Gradually a more normal chemical balance returned to my brain. _Shit,_ I thought. _SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT. I just jerked off to my eight year old daughter. And fuck, I haven't cum like that in years. I'm a fucking pervert._

Other thoughts streamed through as well, unbidden. _I've broken the spell. I've freaked her out. It's never going to be the same again._

But why did she kiss me? I couldn't fathom.

I caught my breath, cleaned up the sizable mess I'd just made, and joined my daughter at the pool. I smiled sheepishly, and she smiled a little. We were both subdued. I studied her face for clues on what she was thinking, but her mind was now opaque to me. I noticed her eyes checking me carefully to determine if I was still hard. Not anymore, I wanted to say.

We returned to the Family Changing Room. One thing was clear - Stephanie was no longer taking the lead in our game. She watched me as I went to the shower, still in my suit. She followed, still in hers. The ball was back in my court.

I needed to know how things stood. With Stephanie beside me in the shower, I stripped off. I hesitated before turning to look at her. She was studying me. Water streamed through her hair and around her glistening face. She bit her lip. I trembled inside. She looked... well, disappointed I guess. She turned away, peeled off her suit, rinsed it for a second, and went back to the bench. We dried off and dressed in silence and walked back to the car.

As we drove she faced the side window and stared out. I heard a soft sniffle. And another. She was crying. _Oh shit. SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT._

"Steph. I'm so sorry, honey. It just happens sometimes, and it's... you're not supposed to see me that way. I guess."

"What do you mean, it just happens?" She kept looking out the window.

It wasn't the question I'd expected. "Sometimes... it just gets stiff."

"Mommy said it gets that way so that you can... do sex."

"That's... also true..." I wasn't getting it.

"You and Mommy do it."

This whirlpool was deepening with each word. "Yes, sweetie."

"A lot."

"Errrrmm."

"I hear it. My room's right... you know..."

"Right. It is."

"Were you thinking about her?"

I heard fear in her voice, the fear of loss. I'd abandoned her. Now I was back. Now she had me again. But this was was different. She let me see her. I looked. She felt my eyes. She saw my thoughts.

I should have said 'Yes.' I should have told her my eyes were a lie. "I wasn't... thinking," is what I said.

Stephanie chewed her lip. "You were looking. At me. Like you do now. When I... when I'm..."

"I... was." _Looking at you. Like I do now. When you undress. When you're naked._

She dropped her eyes to her lap. "It's how you look at Mommy sometimes. When you do that... it makes me think you're not ever gonna leave again."

"It's... I'm not supposed to."

"You said I look like Mommy. You look at me like you look at her. And you... and her... and then today..." She was sobbing now. "I thought... you wanted to... with me. I'm so stupid."

I pulled the car into the parking lot of a Dunkin Donuts we happened to be passing, swallowed and stared at the steering wheel. "You're the fartherest from stupid, Stephanie." Now I understood the kiss. She was acknowledging my desire, and apologizing because it was futile. How can I know so little about my own daughter?

Mind racing, I tried to be rational. "We can't... people don't think..." _They don't think it's right._ I didn't say it. "It's... for grownups." Later I'd recall this conversation and note that I never uttered the word _shouldn't._

She now looked confused as well as hurt. "You... want to? But..."

"I can't want to, Stephanie. I'm your father."

She was the defiant eight year-old again. "That's SO not fair."

I couldn't help it. Something broke inside. I laughed out loud.

"Daddy... don't be mean."

"Sorry. I was thinking the same thing when you said that."

I wondered how often these feelings were part of the father-daughter dynamic. I expect it's not uncommon. But the Family Changing Room had driven things to the surface that usually remain unrecognized, and are certainly seldom spoken.

"Will you still... look at me? That way. I don't care if you're supposed to. I like it."

 _As if I have a choice._ My turn to stare out of the window.

"I don't think I can stop."

I felt her hand on my knee, and her hair brushed my face as she kissed my cheek.

"I love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, Stephanie." I swallowed hard a few times before started the car. 

#### Chapter X (Rick)

I as much as admitted to my eight year old daughter that she excited me. It seemed to make her happy that I felt that way. Then I told her that we couldn't do anything about it.

At some level, she forgave me and shared my frustration. But at another level, she was pissed. And jealous of her mother. And God knows what else.

The manifestation of this seething kettle of feelings was that she began to tease me relentlessly. Hell hath no fury, and all that.

Our trips to the Family Changing Room continued. For the next few weeks, I managed to avoid being alone there with Stephanie. Even so, she went out of her way to provoke me. It got to the point where she would strip off her shorts and underpants before even taking off her shoes. Naked to her knees, she would look me in the eye and put one foot up on the bench as she slowly unlaced her sneaker and rolled down her sock. And then do it again with the other foot. She could tell it drove me crazy, and she loved every minute of it.

She also constantly flashed me at home. The t-shirts she wore to sleep in got shorter and clearly revealed her panties. The panties got smaller too, it seemed. Carol began to notice, but she misread things completely. "Time to get you some new clothes, Steph," she said. "You're outgrowing things so fast." Perhaps for the first time in history, a daughter looked disappointed to hear her mother suggest taking her shopping.

When Carol wasn't home, Stephanie took a shower and emerged from the bathroom in a poorly draped towel. Or she forgot to wear panties at all under her t-shirt. Or she left her door open when she was changing.

If you're the sort of person that finds these images appealing, the situation may sound like heaven. It wasn't. While I didn't really feel guilty about my desire for her, I had enough sense and fear that I knew I couldn't act on it. I started taking precautions. Specifically, I started masturbating before we went to the club.

The candid discussion of my erection with Stephanie had given me a recurring nightmare. In the dream, we're sitting around the dinner table as a family, and Carol asks, "Did you have fun at the pool today?" Caroline cheerily replies, "Yes, Mommy. And we saw Daddy's giant hard on!" We all laugh, in the dream. Hahahahaha. You're so silly, Daddy! I keep trying to say "I couldn't help it!" Everybody just keeps laughing. But I realize that Carol isn't laughing with them - she's laughing at me. Not in a nice way. Then she turns into a giant evil clown puppet, and I wake up in a cold sweat.

(The clown puppet thing is left over from my childhood, but it still scares the shit out of me. What are parents thinking when they buy something so hideous for a 3-year-old? That grotesque fucking doll stared at me from the corner of my room for years, plotting my violent death. I was too afraid to throw it away because I just knew it would come back on its own the next day, confirming my secret knowledge that it was alive. So for everything that happened after I started having this dream, I blame the clown puppet.)

I didn't want to get hard in the Family Changing Room. The preventative medicine was easily applied. I suppose it was kind of odd that I was jerking off thinking about seeing my daughter naked, so that I wouldn't pop a hard on when I saw my daughter naked. Like morphine to a heroin addict, I guess.

Problem is, addicts don't always think clearly. The day it happened, I could have sworn that I closed the door. Really. I mean, I always closed the door. Always.

It was after school, and Carol wasn't home. Stephanie made a point to parade in front of me in her underpants as she changed out of her school clothes. "Are we going swimming, Daddy?" she asked coyly. She knew that we were.

"Yes, pumpkin. Get dressed, please."

I went into my bedroom. And closed the door. I always closed the door.

Lying on the bed, eyes closed, hand around my raging cock, I couldn't get the image I'd just seen out of my mind. Stephanie's bikini panties were brilliant white with a yellow flower on the hip, and at least one size too small. The material stretched perfectly skin-tight - no wrinkles could be found. Trust me, I looked for them. The waistband rode so low in front that you could see a small separation on each side, where the elastic leaped straight over the ravine between her pubic mound and her hip. In back, you could clearly see the tops of her perfect cheeks and the dainty cleft in between. The bottom edge curved exactly along the line where her legs met her sex, framing a prominent outline of the lips of her tiny pussy. Even though I'd seen her naked many times, the vision of her in these panties was even more arousing.

Eyes closed. Imagining Stephanie standing by the bed in her underpants. She smiles at me. "I won't tell Mommy," she says. So hard I'm leaking. Squeezing and pumping my cock.

I open my eyes for a second. Not sure why.

Stephanie is standing by the bed in her underpants. She's not smiling at me.

I close my eyes again. _Can't be. Can't be._

Eyes open. Stephanie's still there. My hand's still moving. _Oh fuck._

Eyes closed. Really tight. I still see her standing by the bed in her underpants. It doesn't matter whether they're closed or not. And now they're closed really tight because I'm cumming with intense animal ferocity.

I keep my eyes closed as my orgasm subsides. I pray that I've gone insane, that it was a hallucination. I really want to be insane right now.

"Are you okay, Daddy?"

I nod slowly. I'm hearing voices too. More comforting evidence of insanity.

"You had sex with yourself," she said very softly. It was a statement, not a question. I don't think the concept had occurred to her before. But she's very bright, my Stephanie.

 _Yes, princess,_ I was thinking. _I've just TOTALLY FUCKED MYSELF._

I opened my eyes a little. She was still there, looking pensive. Her eyes were wide, fixed on my dripping cock. It throbbed obscenely once more in response to her stare.

"Because of me?"

I was helpless under her gaze. I nodded.

"I'm sorry, Daddy." I think she was, at least partly.

"It's... okay," I managed. "You weren't supposed to see."

She looked serious. "I won't tell Mommy." Oh God. My gut clenched and my cock spasmed again at the same instant.

I locked eyes with her. "It's really important, Stephanie. Really, really important."

I think she sensed that I was scared. She pouted, disappointed in me.

"Just for us, Daddy. I remember." She pecked me on the cheek and skipped out of the room.

#### Chapter XI (Rick)

Two nights later, Carol and I were in bed. We were both tired, but had still reached for each other and made love slowly and sweetly. She was working a lot, and I missed her.

She was spooned against me, her bare bottom nestled comfortably against my softening cock while I cupped both breasts. Even after 10 years of marriage, she overwhelmed me. When I was with her, I didn't think of anything else.

Unless she talked, of course.

"I have to tell you something."

Uh oh. _She's fucking the senior partner at her law firm. She has cancer. She's accepted Jesus Christ as her Lord and Savior. Her mother's moving in._

"It's about Stephanie."

My mind went blank. I heard myself say "Hmmmmm?"

"You know I gave her the basic birds and bees."

"Ummmmmhmmmmm." I was afraid that if I opened my mouth I'd scream.

"So tonight as I'm tucking her in, she says 'Can people have sex with themselves?' Just like that, out of the blue."

"Hmmmmmm!"

"Exactly." Carol misinterpreted the panic in my humming. "So I said 'Where did you hear about that?'"

"Ummmmmmm?"

"Stephanie said 'Andrea told me.'" Oxygen returned to my brain.

"Oh. That's good." I actually said that. Andrea was Stephanie's best friend, and was potentially better informed, being 9 and all.

She laughed. "Exactly." Fortunately, I was often ironic. Sometimes on purpose.

"So then she asked, 'Is it true?' I didn't really know how to answer her."

"I can imagine." I really could imagine. "What did you say?"

"Well, I told her the truth."

"What do you mean?" I was genuinely curious now.

"I told her about masturbation."

"Hmmmmm."

"Exactly. Do you think I did the right thing?"

Life is strange sometimes. I embraced the strangeness.

"What did you tell her, exactly?"

"I told her that people touch themselves because it feels nice. And that people do it when they want to have sex but don't have anybody that they love right then."

"That was a nice way to say it, I guess."

"Thanks. Then she said, 'Or if they love somebody but they can't have sex with them.' She's so smart, sometimes, don't you think?"

"Mmmmmm. Ummmhmmmmm."

A long pause. "She asked me how to do it."

"Hmmmm?"

"She asked me how to do it."

"I heard you. That was more of a shock and concern noise."

"Exactly." She turned to face me.

"You didn't tell her, did you?" I asked.

"No. Well. Not exactly."

"Not exactly?"

"I told her that she's too young. And she got that look in her eyes."

"Which look?"

"The 'I'm not a baby' look." I knew it well. "And she said 'I guess I can ask Andrea.'"

"Oh God." We both laughed.

Her brow scrunched. "It's too early for this, Rick. I want her to be a little girl for a few more years. Like 10 years."

"Then we'll have to send Andrea to boarding school."

She smiled. "Exactly. CATHOLIC boarding school. With ugly nuns."

I nodded. "So?"

A pause. "I told her that she can only do it in her room, by herself."

"So you told her. How to do it."

"No. Well. A little."

"Hmmm?"

She sighed. Her voice was resigned. "Okay. I told her to find the bump and rub. And to not put anything inside, because it could hurt her."

"The bump." I giggled like a schoolboy.

"Don't tease me. This was hard. I bet I screwed her up for life."

I held her tight. "She would have asked Andrea and probably gotten some ridiculous ideas. Or become a lesbian. You're the best mother in the world. Dr. Ruth would be proud of you."

"Thanks. I think. What are you doing?"

"I'm finding your bump."

#### Chapter XII (Carol)

Of course I knew that children have sexual feelings. I had them myself when I was young, but they were vague and distant and not understood until I was well past my tenth birthday. Perhaps things were different then, or I was a late bloomer. I shouldn't have been surprised by Stephanie's questions, but I was. The way she'd asked seemed a little odd... _Can people have sex with themselves?_ She knew about sex, because I'd told her about it. Well, given her a book about it, at least. And girls talk. She and Andrea were in constant whispered giggles when they were together. I wondered if I should have a talk with Andrea's mother, and then quickly dismissed the idea. Best to keep this in the family.

When I told Rick, he was typically thoughtful and supportive. I think he was shocked too, but he seldom overreacted to things. Mainly he responded to my worries that I'd gone too far in explaining how to do it. It helped, but I was still concerned, especially when Stephanie started keeping her door closed for long stretches of time.

The thought of Stephanie masturbating disturbed me. As I examined my feelings, I realized that it was probably disturbing me more than it should. I went back to the internet with trepidation, typing in several variants of search terms before pressing Enter. Even so, I got it wrong on the first try. Googling 'daughter masturbates' gave me a page full of links to porn videos with titles like 'Daughter masturbates for Daddy.' That was just what I didn't need. 'Daughter asked about masturbation' was a better choice. The results were pretty much what I'd expected, mostly reassuring articles that it's all natural and important to talk about and how as a parent you have to treat it unemotionally. Easy for them to say.

It could have been worse. Stephanie had felt that she could ask me. That was a Real Parent moment and made me feel close to her all over again. Most kids would never ask, I imagine. Other moms faced even tougher questions ('Help! My eight year old asked me what a blowjob is'). Others had girls who were actively and openly masturbating as toddlers. Way more awkward than my situation.

In my mind I went over and over my conversation with her. Could I have handled it better? Maybe, but I think I did just fine. I didn't cross any lines, according to the 'experts.' Some said I should have used the opportunity to be more explicit ('Why I taught my daughter what a vibrator was when she was ten'), but she'd seemed satisfied with my answers and that felt like success.

Still, there was something niggling at me as I looked at Stephanie's closed door. It finally struck me... it was what she'd said about why people do it... _Or if they love somebody but they can't have sex with them._ Was Stephanie in love with someone? The thought of her masturbating bothered me, but the notion that she might have a crush on some boy and translate that into wanting to have sex with him was a whole different issue. This was something for which I was completely not prepared.

It was my turn to take Stephanie to soccer the next Saturday. On the way in the car, I tried what I thought was a subtle approach. "That boy in your class, you know... Ryan? The one with the blue eyes. I bet girls like him."

She looked at me like I had two heads. "Mom. Don't. Even."

I pressed on. "You don't think he's cute?" Eye rolling.

"He's a little less disgusting than the other boys, I guess," was the considered response. I found this reassuring. After a moment, something more helpful. "Andrea likes him." Another pause. "She likes his brother more though."

It turns out that Ryan's brother is 12, three years older than Andrea. Rick is almost three years older than me, and I'd discovered him when I was 10. I could relate a bit. "So when she was talking to you about... sex... was she talking about him, then?"

Stephanie shrugged, staring out of the car window, clearly embarrassed by the whole discussion. I took her next question as an attempt to change the subject. "Dad has blue eyes too. Is that why you liked him?"

I smiled as we arrived at the soccer field. "I liked everything there was about your father, sweetpea." She ran off to join her team without looking back at me.

#### Chapter XIII (Rick)

For the next two weeks, the words _find the bump and rub_ revolved constantly in my head like the scrolling news banner on CNN. Every time I saw that Stephanie's bedroom door was closed, a vivid image played in my mind. My little girl lying on her bed. Eyes closed, mouth slightly open. Completely naked. (Or maybe wearing only socks.) Knees up, with the backs of her heels against her thighs. Legs spread wide. Small fingers of her left hand separating the lips of her soft, bare sex. Delicate inner folds revealed. Index finger of her right hand methodically sliding over her tiny clit.

Her hand moving faster now. A furrow on her brow. Her slender hips rise in rhythm with the down thrust of her finger. Soft high-pitched gasps escape her with each stroke. Her face and chest flushed red. Her bottom clenching as she lifts it off the bed. Biting her lower lip. Her body spasms and goes rigid. And again. Her face a mask of pleasure. Her mouth opens as the waves pass over her. A moan signals the final release of tension. As she slowly relaxes, she turns over on her side, her hand still cupping her smoothness.

The picture was both obscene and irresistible. And while savoring the vision, I said to myself, she's thinking about me, about my cock. I had to shake my head to snap back to reality.

From time to time I also noticed Carol watching Stephanie's closed door. Like me, she seemed to be trying to see though it. Eventually our eyes met. She looked sheepish, knowing she'd been caught.

"I Googled it," she said, a little defensively. "Everybody says it's normal. Healthy, even."

"I believe you. You should stop worrying." I hesitated, but I couldn't resist teasing her a little. "What did you Google, exactly?"

She blushed. "I tried a few things. I really hope they don't monitor what you search on."

"They do. It's how they decide what advertising to show you."

"Really?" She looked concerned.

"Well, yes. But they don't know who in the house did the search."

"Aha! Plausible deniability. As a lawyer, I'd have no problem pinning it on you."

I feigned outrage. "You're the one downloading all the porn."

"I skipped the porn. Well, most of it. It's pretty awful. But there's lots of parenting advice sites, and they all have these letters from concerned parents. 'Help! My child is masturbating, what should I do?'"

"And they all say not to worry about it, right?"

"Well, yes." She paused. "But they also say you shouldn't teach them how to do it. You're supposed to let them figure it out for themselves."

"Hmmm. Thinking back, I guess I was self-educated. Were you?"

She nodded. "But not until I was 12."

"We've always known that Stephanie is a gifted child," I offered.

"You're not helping."

"Sorry. But you're being silly. Someday she'll thank you. And it's not like you taught her. You just gave her a hint."

"Don't remind me." A long pause. "Do you think the Family Changing Room had anything to do with it?"

She's really, really smart, my wife. It's one of the things I love about her. I searched her face carefully to see what was behind her question. I was glad to see there was no hint of accusation - she wasn't thinking I'd done anything improper.

I looked a little shocked. It wasn't hard, given what I'd just been asked. "God, I'd hate to think that. Maybe you should talk to her about it."

Somehow, given everything that had happened I felt that I could really trust Stephanie to say the right thing if her mother asked. More than that, I felt I had to trust her. I had to trust her totally.

Carol looked thoughtful. Suggesting a talk with Stephanie seemed to steer her further away from any suspicion. "I have no idea what I'd say to her. But maybe you should stop using it, at least with Stephanie."

I nodded. "You're right." She was right. Shit, she really was right. "If she's thinking about these things, you're right." I felt relieved, actually. For the most part.

#### Chapter XIV (Carol)

Stephanie's classmates were starting to think about boys. Andrea at least was starting to think about them actively. Although Stephanie still seemed actively disinterested, I was sure it wouldn't be long until that changed. This contributed to my general sense that I was losing touch with my children. I was cooking up a thick gumbo of feelings with a pungent base stock distilled from guilt at being absent. I felt like I had to do something, change something, to regain some sense of relevance.

At the time, I was convinced that my talk with Rick about barring Stephanie from the Family Changing Room was entirely motivated by my concern for our daughter. Maybe I'd been wrong in pushing her to get over her modesty. If she really was masturbating, it was time for me to think of her as more grown up. Rick seemed to agree, though I could tell he was a little saddened. The pool had become an important part of their bonding, I knew. He too didn't want our little girl to grow up too fast and become distant.

I felt an odd sense of satisfaction after we'd decided. Thinking about it later, I had to ask myself if I'd made an issue of it for less noble reasons. Some part of me didn't want Rick to be closer to Stephanie than I was. If I had to be away, it was perversely comforting to keep some distance between them as well. I was revolted by this insight, but I couldn't deny it. It didn't help that when I'd talked to Stephanie about it that night she'd been very confused and hurt.

She was quiet for quite a while as she digested the decision. It was barely a whisper when she spoke. "Daddy will think I don't like him... again... like before." I saw the wetness build in her eyes and winced.

"No, Stephanie. We've talked about it. You're... growing up. He understands. It'll be fine, I promise. You can still go to the pool and do all the other things you do with him."

Another long pause. "It's soooo gross in the ladies, Mom." She meant it, but I could tell she was negotiating. The influence of her lawyer mother, I noted with pride.

"It's not. It's natural. It'll be good for you to know how different people are."

"I already know how different people are. They're gross." I raised my eyebrows and gave her a disappointed look. She looked away, relenting on this point at least.

"But I just... I mean... I just... got used to it... with Daddy. I don't mind it anymore, I mean."

"And I'm very proud of you for that, Steph. Your father is too. But we've agreed that this is the right decision."

Her shoulders shook a little. "It's not fair." She was looking down, her face very red. Sad? Angry? It was hard to tell.

I kissed her forehead and closed the door behind me on the way out of her room.

**************************

I let Rick take Stephanie to lunch and the Mall the next day. I wanted them to know that I wasn't trying to come between them. I had no indication that Rick was thinking that way, but I was painfully aware that I might be.

When they had left I curled up with Caroline on the couch and read to her for a bit. She was restless and squirmy. My suggestions of a sandwich, a movie, and coloring all met with a shake of her small blond head. She finally took her thumb from her mouth. "Bath please, Mommy." It was more of a statement than a request. I brushed back her fine hair. "You just had one last night, Caroline." She stuck out her lip. "I know." Sometimes six is four, or even three. I smiled. "Okay, lovebug. Up we go then."

I carried her upstairs and turned on the water. As I started to undress, I saw her just standing and watching me. "What is it, sweetpea?" I asked. "Do mine too," she said. She was feeling very little that day, it seems. I finished stripping off and knelt by the tub. We tickled and giggled like we hadn't for years as I took off her clothes. I felt needed. I had my baby girl back, at least for these precious moments, and it was lovely.

We settled into the gently steaming water and I washed her hair slowly, laying her back to rinse. She nestled against my chest. I closed my eyes, my hand on her bottom, pulling her close. It wasn't long before I felt her mouth at my breast. In that instant I knew that I'd hoped for it, that I wanted it. I wouldn't have admitted it even to myself, but it was true. I shifted a bit to give her easier access, and trembled as she latched on and began to suckle. My entire body reacted with a powerful rush of warmth. I imagined that I felt my womb contract, a fleeting ghost of childbearing long past. I sighed deeply and let my free hand wander.

In a moment (how long? I don't know, but the water was still warm) I felt Caroline stir. I opened my eyes a little and smiled down at her. Her face was flushed and peaceful, cheeks caving gently. She moved again and her brow furrowed a bit. I let my eyes travel down her slender shiny arm to where it went beneath the water... and further... to see her hand. Her tiny, six year-old hand. The hand that held mine so tight when she was scared, the fingers too short to wrap around her glass of milk. Her perfect little hand was nestled between her legs... those legs parted just enough... the hand not still, but moving. The fingers moving, obscured by the soapy water but still clear to me. The fingers moving through the pale soft folds. Moving, and rubbing. Her bottom shifted against me... her face reddened more... she breathed in, broke her mouth's contact with my nipple... shut her eyes tight... trembled in my arms, her short legs stretching straight for just a moment, making a soft splash... held rigid there... shivered... and then very slowly relaxed, melting against me.

Her eyes opened halfway and she looked up. No words, from her or from me. Her face said all that was needed. It said _bliss._

#### Chapter XV (Rick)

"You told her, didn't you." It was a statement, not a question. Stephanie was regarding me with a cold, angry stare. We were in the car alone. I'd just dropped Caroline off at kindergarten, and was taking Stephanie to her school a few blocks away.

"What? Told who?"

"Mom. You told Mom about us." Shit. I guess I should have expected this. Her tone was icy. And it was jarring to hear her call her mother "Mom", rather than "Mommy".

"No, honey. I didn't tell her. Believe me, I wouldn't."

She wasn't convinced. "Then why did she say I couldn't go in the room with you?"

The truth seemed best in this case. "I think you scared her a little with your questions, Stephanie."

She continued to glare, but was quiet while she thought it through.

"I told her Andrea said it."

"I know, sweetie. She believed you. It was really good that you said it that way. But she thinks you're too young to be thinking about sex. And I guess she thought being naked with me was part of why you asked."

She seemed to accept this, but was still visibly annoyed. "Is she mad?"

"She doesn't think we did anything wrong. She just doesn't want you to grow up too fast. And... well, neither do I."

She looked down. "But you let me watch you. When you had sex with yourself. You saw I was there but you didn't stop."

She sort of had me there. "I couldn't help it," I said plaintively. Who was the eight year-old here? She actually smirked in response. I knew I was in trouble.

"You know why I asked her, Daddy?"

"I'm not really sure, kitten. Why did you ask her?"

"Duh. Cuz I wanted to know."

We both laughed. She smiled at me impishly.

"You could have asked Andrea," I offered.

"I did. She doesn't know anything."

"Hmmm." An awkward silence. "You could have asked me, you know."

"I'm a girl," she said flatly. _You idiot,_ was clearly implied but not spoken.

"I know you are, honey. Believe me, I know." I actually blushed a little. "But I know a little bit about how girls work."

"Oh." I could tell she hadn't considered this possibility. "I thought Mom was the only one I could ask, really."

I nodded a concession. "I can understand that, I guess. So tell me, honey - why did you want to know?"

"So that I could do it for you. Since you did it for me."

I swallowed hard. She went on. "I know we can't have sex together, Daddy. But I thought we could have sex with ourselves together."

With my eyes wide open, my vision of Stephanie on her bed projected itself in technicolor in front of me. Finding the bump. Rubbing. _Christ._

"I don't think it's a good idea, Stephanie," I said after a time. My voice wasn't convincing, even to me.

"But you want to," she stated, no doubt in her voice. She could read my face so easily now.

I tried not to nod, but I don't think I entirely succeeded. "We shouldn't." It was all I could manage to say.

The following week was awkward at best. Stephanie and I were both unsure where we stood. I could tell that we both felt that we'd lost something. Still, the underlying tension remained unabated. She continued to tease me at home, but without the previous enthusiasm. I'd catch a glimpse of her in her underpants, and she'd flash me a little smile before disappearing around the corner. Her time behind her closed bedroom door grew longer.

The next Saturday we had another split soccer schedule. Carol and Caroline had an early afternoon game. Stephanie's game was over by 9. On our way back to the car, I asked if she wanted to go swimming. "I'm a little tired today," she said. "I think I'd rather just go home."

I'm sure she saw my disappointment. Without Caroline, I had thought that perhaps we would go back to the Family Changing Room together. I'd been hard all morning thinking about it, in fact. She gave me an inscrutable smile and just said, "Don't worry, Daddy. We'll go again." We were both quiet on the way home.

We arrived to find an empty house and a note saying that Carol and Caroline had gone to lunch before her game. They wouldn't be home until late that afternoon. When I told Stephanie we'd be on our own for the day, she said, "I know, Daddy. I told Caroline to get Mommy to take her early." The mysterious smile was on her face again.

"You did?" I'm slow sometimes. I admit it.

Stephanie nodded, and took me by the hand. She grinned at me and blushed. My brain was starting to work again, but still wasn't making the leap. "What are you up to, sweetheart?"

She tugged on my hand and led me through the house. To the stairs. Up the stairs. Into my bedroom. We entered. She closed the door. Somewhere along the way, my feeble mind caught up to what was happening.

"Stephanie. I don't know what you're thinking, but this isn't a good idea. I don't think..."

"Daddy?" Her voice was soft but amazingly firm.

"Yes, princess?"

"Just shut up, okay?"

Her mind was made up. After a time I nodded, as usual unable to deny her.

Stephanie was still in her soccer uniform. She nimbly slid the voluminous shirt over her head and let it fall to the floor. I gazed in awe at her flat tummy, and worked my way back up to her eyes. They were regarding me calmly, patiently. Back to our old game. She was in charge again.

I dutifully unbuttoned my shirt, and tossed it on top of hers. Her face was triumphant. She kicked off her cleats. I stepped out of my boat shoes. She paused for a moment, biting her lip. She was wearing socks, but I wasn't. After a moment's deliberation on how to handle this imbalance, she sat on the bed and peeled off her knee-high white leggings. I acknowledged her fairness with a smile. That didn't count, so it was still her turn.

She slid her soccer shorts over her hips and let them fall to the floor, pushing them into the growing pile of clothes. She was wearing the same tiny underpants that she'd had on when she caught me masturbating. Apparently she'd been planning this for a while. I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. There was now no possibility that reason would prevail. Any sense of guilt had been driven to a remote, inaccessible part of my mind by the most powerful surge of lust I'd ever felt.

My khaki shorts joined Stephanie's in the pile, making obvious the massive tent in my boxers. Stephanie regarded my excitement with satisfaction. I felt myself blushing, matching my tiny daughter's already flushed complexion.

Stephanie took her time with her underpants. She knew she was driving me mad, and was clearly enjoying every second. She wriggled her hips as she pushed them down and defiantly kicked them off her legs. Her eyes never left my crotch as she did this.

She stood naked and unashamed, and perfect. As with every time I'd seen it, the uninterrupted slope of her belly down to her bare puss took my breath away. I stood looking in awe a little too long. Her face was resolute. It was my turn.

I had to stretch the waistband of my boxers to its limit to get it over the head of my throbbing cock. I let them drop on their own, and pushed them with my toe into our now complete mound of laundry. It was Stephanie's turn to swallow. Feeling her stare was almost like a caress. My penis twitched in response, a third active participant in our silent conversation.

I guess Stephanie hadn't fully thought out her evil plan. As we regarded each other, it became clear that she wasn't really sure what to do next. As she hesitated, I entertained obscene possibilities. God, I wanted her. Her mouth was at the exact height of my cock. I almost came spontaneously from the image of her lips gently wrapping around me.

I opened my eyes to find her still two feet away, her face excited but unsure. Her innocence returned a modicum of sense to my mind. "Let's sit on the bed," I suggested. She nodded quickly, seeming glad for the help.

I sat with my back against the headboard. Stephanie sat beside me. Where Carol usually was. Which was just too strange, even for this already strange scene.

"Why don't you sit at the end, and face this way, honey." Her face questioned me. "That way, I can see you better." Her smile returned. I handed her a pillow, and she propped herself against the post at the foot of the bed.

She stretched out her feet, and I did the same. Our toes met and mingled in the middle of the bed. We pushed against each other, giggling, legs failing, releasing the palpable tension. For a moment, she was just my little girl again. It broke a barrier, in a sense - I hadn't really allowed myself to think of Stephanie in the same moment as both a sexual being and as my daughter. It was as if there were two people, only one of whom existed at any given time. But here she was, my precious girl, my intensely provocative girl, who had lured me here, arranged our tryst, stripped for me, and lay naked on my bed.

I slowly, deliberately pressed my feet against hers and used the tension to open her legs. I looked into her eyes as I gently spread her. Remembering my imagined scene of Stephanie in her bedroom, I pushed her slender legs wide, and guided her small feet until her heels were pressed against the back of her thighs. The lips of her smooth sex parted slightly, revealing for the first time to me the small, delicate folds within. She seemed to relish my visual exploration. She drew her knees back even farther as I stared.

Her hand entered my field of view. Tentatively, it crept up her thigh until it rested against her bare mound. She cupped herself gently. In response, my fingers wrapped around my cock.

"You're so beautiful, Stephanie."

Her entire upper body glowed red in response. She looked down. "You are too, Daddy." It was almost a whisper.

Her hand started to move a little. She pressed her palm against her slit, and slowly rubbed it. Up, then down with a bit more force. She watched my reaction as she repeated the motion. A few more rubs. She continued to watch me. It was intensely erotic - but I could tell she was doing it for me, not for herself.

"Steph..." Not that I wanted to interrupt.

"Don't you like it, Daddy?"

"I love it, sweetheart. But... did you ever... you know... find the bump?"

She shook her head. "I didn't really know what that meant."

My imagination had gotten ahead of things, obviously. "I guess Mommy should have shown you." Scrunchy face. "Okay, maybe not. But she didn't tell you everything."

"What do you mean?"

"Will you do what I tell you to do for a minute?"

Teeth at her lip as she nodded. "Open yourself up... with your fingers, like this." I demonstrated, separating my thumb and pointer. Stephanie spread the lips of her puss with her left hand. A tremor took me as the soft pink interior was revealed. She peered down at herself intensely. "It's weird," she said.

"It's perfect, princess. Beautiful like the rest of you." A skeptical wince, but she went with it. "Now use your other finger and touch near the top." She probed with her right index finger. "Not there, sweetie. Up a little." I watched as her finger nestled between her tiny inner lips and moved slowly up. "That's where I pee, Daddy." Another scrunchy face. "I know, baby. Just a little farther." Her finger resumed its northward migration.

Suddenly, she stopped. Her finger twitched back and forth, almost imperceptibly. Her eyes got big. I smiled at her. "The bump," I said. "Rub right there."

She made a little circle around it, and gasped. She did it again, and her eyes closed. "There you go, kitten."

"Why didn't Mommy tell me?" Exasperated. All this time practicing on her own, and she'd been doing it wrong the whole while.

"She tried, in her own way."

Her finger continued its tiny orbit, but faster now. "That's sooo amazing. Now I REALLY want to do it."

We both laughed. She bit her lip and bore down. "That's it, sweetheart. You can't hurt it." I was slowly stroking myself. Her hips started to move as she rubbed and watched me. I leaned back, and relaxed, and watched in awe as my little girl truly pleasured herself for the first time. She sped up and slowed down, pressing into her hand by lifting her bottom. I guess the practice hadn't been entirely wasted after all.

Her breath was short. "Am I gonna have one, Daddy?"

For once I was on top of things. "An orgasm, you mean?" She nodded rapidly. "I think so, honey. I hope so. Just don't stop."

"Andrea told me about it," she said between pants. I couldn't help but giggle.

"Tell me when you feel like you can't hold back. I want to do it at the same time." I squeezed my cock and it leaked profusely, the slippery sensation of my precum bringing me perilously close to the edge. I had to hold my hand perfectly still, or I would have erupted at that instant. Her slender fingers danced with accelerated urgency.

Stephanie's eyes were glued to my cock when suddenly she issued a sharp... well, _squeak._ I'm not sure what I was expecting - certainly not the guttural moan of a porn star, or even my wife's elegant coo - but the girlish sound seemed to fit Stephanie perfectly. Her eyes wide, her bottom lifting, her fingers madly assaulting her flushed pudenda, she squeaked. And squeaked again. On the third squeak, I answered her with a loud grunt as cum exploded from me. We both let go, allowing each other to see without reservation the animal nature of our desire. Our eyes locked; hers were filled with intensity and newfound wonder, mine with pure joy at the privilege of witnessing such beauty. It seemed like it lasted an hour. As the waves subsided, we slumped back and closed our eyes. I became aware again of the warmth of her small feet, still pressed against mine.

I didn't want to break the blissful silence, but I had to know what she was thinking. "That was so special for me, Stephanie... so... perfect." I basked in the glow of the soft smile she returned. "How do you feel, sweetheart?"

Her face was thoughtful. "I guess... now I know how come there's so many babies," she said.

We both laughed like little girls.

#### Chapter XVI (Rick)

"Get ooouuuttttttttt!" It was a shriek in the frequency range that evolution has finely honed over millennia so that eight-year-old girls cannot possibly be ignored when in distress. The shrill piercing wail vibrated at the base of my skull just as biology intended. After wincing, I sighed. Our two girls got along sometimes. Increasingly, they did not.

I stood at the door of Stephanie's room. Stephanie was on her tummy on the bed, ostensibly trying to read. Caroline was sitting on the floor, digging through a box of miscellaneous disassembled parts of My Little Ponies, attempting to construct a cartoonish equine with matching colors. Stephanie had abandoned them at least a year ago, but that didn't mean they were fair game for her little sister. To her credit, Caroline seemed unconcerned over her sibling's apparent agony.

"I'm not doinnnggggggg anything," said my six-year-old. This had elements of truth. She was playing quietly, her face set in concentration as she tried to fit the pieces together. A future engineer, I thought. We glimpse our children's futures in the smallest things sometimes.

"You're in MY room and you're touching MY stuff and I'm trying to read. FOR SCHOOL. Real school, not baby school."

The refrain of 'I'm not a baby and you are' was a standard line of attack. I gave Stephanie a stern look.

"Stephanie. Do you love your sister?"

"No." She didn't raise her eyes from her book, considering the argument won by this single, concise word. Her mother the lawyer would have been proud.

"Stephanie."

She looked up a little sheepishly.

"Not when she's in MY room, touching MY stuff."

I raised my eyebrows and waited. Finally she sighed as though the world was ending.

"Yes Daddy. I love my baby sister." There was only a hint of sarcasm so I let it slide.

"Then perhaps it's not a horrible thing that she wants to be with you. She looks up to you."

Caroline blinked and literally looked up at her sister. Stephanie stuck out her tongue. "Ya cuz she's a shrimp." Caroline's tongue replied in kind.

"You'll be sisters forever, you know." A new tack. Appeal to Stephanie's desire to be treated like a grown up.

"Stop scaring me, Daddy." But there was the hint of a smile.

"Can Caroline be in your room if she's not bothering you, Stephanie?" I had a faint hope of negotiating a More Lasting Peace.

Stephanie took a moment to gather her thoughts. Perhaps she realized that pure peevishness wasn't going to win this battle. "She just barges in, Daddy. She doesn't ever knock or anything. I don't go in her room. I want this to be MY room and so just her being here bothers me." She tried to wait out my patient look. "Sometimes. Sometimes her being here bothers me." More patience from me. "And she doesn't knock." With this, Stephanie gave me a different look. A more meaningful one. I felt some warmth in my face. I got the point.

"Caroline, would you help keep the family peace by respecting Stephanie's privacy a bit more?" The little one was puzzled. Talking to them like adults doesn't always work. "If Stephanie's door is closed, she'd like for you to knock and ask for permission to come in before you open it. Do you think you can do that, sweetpea?"

Caroline shrugged. "I guess so." Parenting victory! That was easier than I thought.

I smiled at Stephanie. She smiled right back. "Cool. Permission denied. Now get ooouuuuuttttttt."

Caroline pouted and stared down at the basket. Stephanie rolled her eyes. "And take the stupid ponies." Caroline snatched up the basket and scampered, obviously thinking that her sister could change her mind at any moment. They know each other well. I moved aside to let Caroline pass, clutching her coveted prize.

"Please try to be nice to her, Stephanie."

"I knooowwwww, Daddy."

I cleared my throat. Stephanie gave me a questioning glance.

"So. She just comes in when your door is closed."

Stephanie nodded. Her cheeks colored to a faint pink.

It took me a moment to decide how to ask. "So. Did you... say anything?" I skipped over the obvious question.

Stephanie's answer confirmed my assumption about what Caroline might have seen. She hid her face in her book. "I told her it's not for babies."

I stepped into the room. Things had been unsettled and awkward with Stephanie and I. We were both processing what had happened. I wanted her to know that things were okay. Nothing important had changed. It was profoundly confusing for me, and I could only vaguely imagine the melange of thoughts and feelings racing around her precocious little brain.

I reached down and touched her hair. So soft. She kept pretending to read. Her bottom shifted, forcing me to remember how perfect it is. Pale blue shorts, tight enough that I could see she wasn't wearing underpants. Not a baby anymore. I kissed the top of her head and closed the door on my way out.

And I stood outside her door. Stared at her door, trying to see through it. My treasonous brain raced through scenarios. I don't walk out of her room. I stand by her bed. I lift her chin with my finger. I gently take the book from her small hands and lay it to the side. Somehow she knows what to do. She smiles a tiny smile as her childish hands reach up to find my belt. 'I won't tell Mommy,' she whispers.

I shook my head. I had walked out of her room. I was staring at her door. I was painfully erect. _What have we done, Stephanie? What have we done, and what are we going to do?_

#### Chapter XVII (Stephanie)

I think I'm in love with my Dad. Of course I love my Dad. You're supposed to love your Dad and I do. Not because I'm supposed to but because he's awesome. He knows everything and even when he's mad at me he just wants me to not be a snot. I know I'm a snot sometimes. He was away a lot and I thought he didn't like me but now he's back and it's so nice.

Anyways, I'm kinda in love with him too.

I guess it was the looks. How he looked at me. I never thought I'd want anybody to see me without clothes. That's for babies. But then Mom said that being shy was for babies and I hated that but it made sense too. So I did the undressing thing at the pool with Daddy. It was wicked scary but I just kept looking at his eyes and I did it.

Okay, I didn't look at his eyes the whole time. I can't even imagine having something down there. Wobbly and wrinkly and just strange. Back then I didn't know what it did. Mom kinda told me but it was confusing. Then she gave me a book that was for babies but explained things more. Then when Daddy said that it... his... that it was hard... I knew what that meant. And then when I saw it that way, when Daddy was doing sex with himself... oh my god. It's a whole different thing. Big and strong and like... proud? When I think about it, I think about it that way, not the floppy way. And he said it was because of me. And his face had that look. That's when I think I started to be in love with him.

That's scary too because I know he loves Mommy and she loves him and that's how it's supposed to be. I'm not supposed to love him that way. I just can't help it. And then I did the thing with him. The sex with yourself thing. I kinda made him do it. And now it's all even more confusing and I don't know what to do and I think Mommy knows and I think maybe she hates me. Maybe I made her hate me cuz I haven't been so nice to her. I don't know why, even. She's away a lot now and she just makes me mad sometimes.

I don't think Daddy knows what to do either. After we did the thing he's been really quiet. He still looks at me that way though. When I see him looking it makes me go wobbly and I think about what we did and then I want to go to my room. It's funny that Mom tried to tell me about sex with yourself but it was Daddy that actually showed me how to do it right. The very weirdest thing is when I close my door I guess they know what I'm doing. I like that Daddy knows but I don't really like that Mom knows.

Oh and my little sister is a sneak. I swear she drives me crazy. I was in MY room with MY door closed and I was doing the thing. I didn't even have any pants on, just a shirt. I had my eyes closed and pinched like Daddy showed me and I had the feeling at the end that makes me scrunch my toes and then I opened my eyes and she's just standing there. I didn't even hear her come in. And the door is wide open so anybody could see.

I yelled at her to go away but she stood there looking dumb and said, "How come you're doing that?" I told her it's not for babies and she wouldn't understand and to get out or I'd kill her so totally dead. I pushed her out even though I was mostly naked. Thank God Mom wasn't around.

#### Chapter XVIII (Carol)

The night after the bath I was home early enough to tuck Caroline into bed. We curled up and I started to read her a story. Her eyes soon got sleepy and she wiggled. Her hand then plunged quite deliberately and purposefully into her underpants. At first I hoped she was just scratching. After a minute or so of watching her fingers move under the snug white cotton, it was clear that this wasn't that sort of itch.

My six year old daughter was masturbating, without shame, in my arms. The subtlety of her movements wasn't meant to hide what she was doing. She's so small, so her touching was small. Small squirms, small shivers, small tightening, small short breaths.

I hugged her to my chest. Her hand persisted.

"That feels nice, doesn't it?" I said it as gently as I could. She nodded slowly. I didn't want to mess this up.

"Did you find that out all by yourself, sweetpea?"

Her hand paused. I felt her tense a little. She was quiet for a moment before she said, "Stephanie does it all the time."

My tummy clenched. I kissed her hair and took a slow breath. To say I had mixed feelings would be putting it mildly. In the moment, I found it startling but somehow beautiful. Cozy, in an odd way. But I was concerned that she'd learned from me, from what I had thought were surreptitious caresses of my own in the tub. It turns out that this was a needless worry. It was soon replaced by another worry.

Caroline probably sensed my concern. "Is it bad, Mommy?"

"No, sweetie. It's not bad. It's just... something private."

"Oh. That's why Daddy said I hadda knock."

"Knock where, Caroline?"

"Stephanie's door. She gets mad at me if I watch her. Cuz it's private I guess."

I put my hand on her tummy and nuzzled her neck. _My tiny baby girl. Please please don't grow up. Not ever. Please God. I can't lose you._

Could I be angry? At who? At Stephanie? Of course not. I'd told her how to masturbate. I knew that there was an ongoing war among the girls over Stephanie's privacy, and that it was entirely likely that Caroline had simply marched into Stephanie's room at an inapproriate time. It was understandable. Natural even. All the internet blogs came to mind. Other mothers reported their daughters humping their stuffed animals at even earlier ages.

Caroline's hand was still buried in her panties, but it wasn't moving.

"Is it private with you, Mommy?" she asked. I could understand her confusion. I'd watched her do it in the bath and not said a word.

I was overwhelmed in that moment. I was exhausted from work. Separation from my family was a howling emptiness inside, demanding to be filled. Stephanie was increasingly distant with traces of open hostility. Rationally I know that this is natural for girls and moms, but I'd hoped it wouldn't come until the teen years. The rational knowing doesn't help. It still hurts like fuck all when your child pushes you away, even a little.

These are explanations, not justifications. I know that. We're all just a cumulative agglomeration of our choices. This is a choice that I made. It was very selfish. So was returning to my law practice. All about me.

Then I looked into Caroline's eyes. She was anxious. In some way I thought she shared my fear, and my need. Stephanie had her father. Caroline was always second, always the one we had to wait for as she went as fast as she could on her short legs. Perhaps this wasn't just for me. An easy rationalization. Something in me seized on it.

I whispered at my daughter's ear, so softly that I couldn't hear myself. "No, little one. Nothing is private between you and me. Not anything ever. This can be just for us. For you and Mommy. Private for us." More secrets. A smaller circle. A family within a family.

Her hand moved slightly. I smiled. It moved a little more. Her eyelids fluttered. My hand slid lower. Did I do that? I suppose I did. I saw my hand resting at the mound in her underpants, atop the soft fabric, atop her so-small hand, atop her nascent sex. A pancake stack of me and her. I squeezed just a bit, gently encouraging her own awkward fondles. I watched her face, studied its softness, swam in her bliss, let it flow into my empty places. She was asleep a few heartbeats later.

Rick was reading in bed. He smiled as I came in. It struck me that he always smiled when he saw me after any separation. For some reason that I don't fully understand, he's never not glad to see me. On this occasion, it melted me.

"You had a long day, sweetheart. You must be ex... oh."

He didn't get to finish the sentence. My clothes were off and his blankets pulled back and my legs over his chest and his cock in my mouth in the span of his first syllables. To his credit, his surprise didn't prevent him from taking full advantage of my backside, which in this position was presented to him somewhat obscenely. I vaguely heard his book hit the floor. His fingers found me, found me in heat, violated me thoroughly, matched my urgency. I mauled him to hardness with my tongue... pivoted atop him... impaled myself in one motion, my eyes devouring his... mashed our pubic bones together, my fingers curled against his chest, scratching down it.

To take. To be taken. He knew. My precious husband knew, in that moment. I took him in my need to be taken. In a breath I was on my back, the power in his arms broking no resistance. His cock never left me. I opened my mouth to say 'Fuck me.' The air was forced from my lungs instead as a feral grunt as his weight drove me into the mattress, his teeth fierce at my neck. We rutted mindlessly. My surrender of thought was desperate. He channeled my ferocity without a need to understand it.

He was still hard inside me, my fading spasms clutching at him, trying to capture him as a forever part of my body. He kissed me, with force... then more softly... then on my cheek.

"I missed you too," he said. I forgave him the accompanying smirk. I wrapped myself around my husband and clung. I was able to sleep despite the echoes of doubt resounding in my head.

#### Chapter XIX (Rick)

At various times, I swore to myself that I wouldn't let anything sexual happen with Stephanie again. That's how I formed it in my mind. I'd _let_ it happen. I hadn't _made_ it happen. I hadn't told her to do anything. So how much could I be blamed, really?

Well, okay. Once it started I did tell her to do some things. I told her to spread her legs. I told her to use her fingers and open herself to me. I told her how to bring herself to orgasm. I watched her do all these things. But it was her idea.

This gave me an odd feeling of comfort in one important way. This was Stephanie's secret, not mine. I wasn't asking her to hide things from her mother. She'd initiated, so of course she wouldn't talk about it. I was confident that she understood this. That I'd actually masturbated with my eight-year-old daughter seemed to matter much less than my belief that she would not, in fact, tell Mommy.

Our act of separate but shared pleasure seemed to dispel some tensions but create others. Stephanie didn't actively tease me around the house anymore. We exchanged knowing glances, intimate instantaneous meetings in a gaze that were in some ways more sexual than her parading in her underpants. Perhaps it was just a moment of discovery and we'd moved past it, something that would blend into our memories and become an unspoken touch point. We'd seen a double rainbow together, just she and I, and nobody else was around, and the wind blew it away and in a moment it was gone but for us we could always see the rainbow in each other's eyes.

What I couldn't get out of my mind was her face. Her face when she saw me erect and knew it was for her. Her face when she finally found the mysterious button. Her face when she tensed, and squeaked. Her face when she blinked and glowed, amazed. It's what I saw when I closed my eyes.

Still, I told myself it was impossible. It was a disaster waiting to happen. If I was a normal father I wouldn't be thinking and doing these things in the first place. These warnings played in my head continuously.

But then it was Saturday we were all going to the pool. Caroline complained of a tummyache, and Carol said, "It's okay. You can take Stephanie. I'll stay home and make soup and tend the sick. It's what a proper mother would do."

I heard the pain behind her joke. Her return to work was both joy and torture for her. Her moods were swinging much more widely than at any time since her last pregnancy. I kissed her forehead. "You are the most proper of all mothers, Carol. Your daughters will rule the world someday, or whatever portion of it that they choose, because you'll have made them capable of anything and strong enough to make their own choices."

"As long as Caroline stays out of MY part of the world," offered Stephanie.

"My part will have all the unicorns, and YOU can't come there," retorted her sister.

"I rest my case," I said. Carol smiled and pulled me in for a kiss on the lips. Stephanie winced at the PDA. Her mother noticed but let it go.

Stephanie and I were quiet on the way to the pool, but it wasn't a bad quiet. An uncertain quiet, maybe anxious. She talked a little about school and how it was mostly boring and that she couldn't wait until she had real teachers who actually knew things. I suggested that her teachers probably knew things, at which she gave me the 'if you say so' side-eye.

I took her hand on the way from the car. The warmth of it. The smallness. She squeezed. I flashed back to my second date with Carol. When she'd squeezed my hand, my heart and mind raced at what it could mean. For that moment. For that day. For the rest of my life.

Inside, I made myself let go of her hand and headed for the men's locker room. Stephanie stood in the hall and watched me go. Her face. A question. Confusion. Anger. Sadness. It was a movie played out in a few brief seconds. I saw her head drop, the curtain coming down. It felt like an ice pick thrust through my eye and into my skull. I kept going. _Fuck. Fuck me. I've broken my daughter. I've broken us._

I met her at the pool. I couldn't take my eyes away. I swam laps and she held to the side, listlessly. She watched me. I stopped after ten minutes, dove under the floating rope and came up beside her. The sadness was palpable. I wasn't sure if the crystal droplets on her face were from the pool or from her eyes.

"Should we go?" She only nodded, needlessly.

I took her hand again. It was tiny and wet and cold and limp in my fingers. She didn't squeeze.

I opened the door to the Family Changing Room.

Was it habit? We'd certainly gone there almost every time we'd been to the pool. I hadn't been thinking. I'd been feeling. Feeling everything that I imagined my daughter was feeling. I looked down at Stephanie. She met my gaze uncertainly. She looked into the room. I saw her face. And then we were inside.

We were inside and we were naked. And we were naked and wet and cold. And we were cold and touching ourselves. And we were touching and we sat on the soft bench. And we sat on the soft bench and faced each other. And we faced each other and we didn't say a word. And we didn't say a word until it was done. And it was done and I said, "I'm sorry." And I said I was sorry and she said, "Are you sorry that we did it?" And she asked me that and I said, "No." And I said no and she smiled and she smiled and we showered and we showered and we went home and I was truly, somehow, terrifyingly not sorry.

#### Chapter XX (Rick)

Can you betray someone and still completely and utterly love them? I mean, fundamentally betray their unquestioning trust in you. Not in a small way. Not by hiding the cookies that you know she loves but shouldn't eat. Not by saying that you came straight home when you'd stopped for an innocent beer and watched the last three innings of the game that you know she'd hate. But by, say, just for example, sexually molesting her child. It this compatible with true love?

For me, it seemed to be reconcilable. I didn't love Carol any less, or any differently, near as I could tell. I didn't desire her less. In fact, she benefited from the fact that I was more often aroused.

In my internal argument, the first line of defense was that I hadn't molested anyone. I'd never touched Stephanie in a sexual way. If I pushed the boundaries of rationalization, it occurred to me that this was positive father-daughter bonding. Her mother had tried to explain things to her and done it incompletely. I just finished the lesson. Who was harmed by this? It wasn't at all clear that anyone was. Stephanie's head dropping to the floor as I turned away from her towards the locker room. That's real, undeniable pain, deserving of relief. There were moments of clarity when I knew that this line of reasoning was stupid and wrong. These moments became more rare.

My spouse is a lawyer. More than that, she's a fierce mother. I had no doubt that her view of my behavior would be dim. Dim to the point of divorce, jail, and likely castration if she got the chance. But it would be her disappointment in me that would make it impossible for me to ever feel like a person again. Carol is my rock. I had the hard place. My brain creates horrible puns under stress. I can't help it.

I was confident in Stephanie's discretion. I hadn't counted on her jealousy. I suppose I should have paid more attention in Psych 101, but I'd only taken it in college because it was known as an easy A. Stephanie was beginning to view her mother as a rival. I remembered her expression from Saturday when I'd kissed Carol in her presence. In retrospect, the face she made wasn't just 'Parents kissing is gross, get a room already.' There was an undercurrent of 'Why don't you kiss me like that?' and 'How could you?'

I don't think Stephanie actually understood her feelings in these terms. She wouldn't have said that she hated her mother, or that she wanted me all to herself. I'm sure this confusion made it more difficult for her to deal with the situation. Her conflicting emotions began to surface as withdrawal from or nastiness to Carol.

Of course Carol interpreted this as a reaction to her being away at work again. A fundamental betrayal of her commitment to her family. I tried every way to reassure her. It was difficult, because it was partly true. Despite everything, Stephanie also missed her. Carol seemed to focus more on Caroline to keep her grounded as a parent. It was the easiest path, the downhill road when her energy was spent. It gave Stephanie a reason to be jealous of her sister as well for receiving more of her mother's attention. We were fraying as a family. It was unfamiliar and frightening territory.

On top of this, our repeat performance at the pool hadn't really clarified things between Stephanie and I. She knew that I still loved her, that we were okay, that she hadn't done something terrible. Uncertainty had become some vague, undefined sense of expectation. How do you have a discussion about sexual expectations with your preteen daughter? I had no clue. I didn't know what my own expectations were. I only knew my desires, and that they were likely something I could not successfully ignore.

Carol left the house early on most days, leaving me to get the girls off to school. My academic schedule allowed me this luxury. On Wednesday morning after our pool visit, I opened my bedroom door, expecting to rouse the troupes from bed and start breakfast.

Stephanie was standing in the hallway. She was startled, but I caught a glimpse of her eyes before they lifted to meet mine. She'd been staring at the door, as though trying to see through it. She was wearing a tshirt, short enough that it left no doubt. There was nothing underneath it.

I smiled. I touched her cheek. She raised her hand and put it on mine, turned her face a bit and kissed my palm. Expectations.

"You're up early, sweetheart."

She nodded.

"We have to get ready for school."

Her head dropped. But just a little. After a moment, a slow nod.

I kissed her hair. Another moment. She bit her lip, then turned and started to walk back to her room. After the first step, she'd pulled the tshirt off and let it drop to the floor in the hallway. I didn't move to pick it up until she was out of sight.

**************************

Thursday morning. I opened my eyes. Blinked at the ceiling. A movement beside the bed. Was Carol late for work? I looked for the clock and saw Stephanie, standing, watching me, the door closed behind her. She was holding a tshirt in her hand. As my brain began to work, I realized that it must be the tshirt she'd been wearing before she took it off, since she was naked.

I swallowed. Looked at the clock. "Y-you're up early, sweetheart."

She regarded me patiently. Her gaze traveled down over the sheet that covered me, and stopped at a point.

"It's hard." She said it calmly. She was right, of course. I felt myself blush.

"Can I see?" She pulled at the sheet without waiting for an answer. I didn't stop her. _Her face. God. Her face._

"You sleep naked, Daddy." This was obvious, but was clearly a surprise to her. The notion of not wearing something to bed seemingly hadn't occurred.

"Sometimes, I do."

She chewed her lip. I could see the wheels turning. A momentary frown that passed. She knew that her mother slept with me.

"I just want to watch this time, Daddy." My daughter rested her elbows on the bed and her stare on my very stiff cock and waited. It seemed pretty clear that she wasn't going to move from that spot of her own accord.

I raised my eyebrows. _Fuck. Expectations._ "Stephanie..."

"It's a quarter after seven, Daddy. We don't have to get ready for school for another fifteen minutes. I know it doesn't take you that long."

In other circumstances, I might have taken offense. In this circumstance, I didn't. I gripped. I tugged. I grunted.

Her face, rapt, aglow. Her frame, exquisite in its smooth simplicity. Her bottom, extended behind her as she bent, perfect.

It didn't take long.

A smile. "That's so awesome. Will you make pancakes? It was only three minutes." 7:18. _Fuck_.

**************************

Friday morning. I opened my eyes. Carol was home, already up and getting the girls ready. They were in the girls' bathroom, negotiating over the single sink. She'd let me sleep til eight, bless her.

"How come Stephanie always gets to go first?" Caroline was beginning to assert herself more. This was inevitable given her maternal DNA.

"Cuz you're a baby and I'm not." Of course.

"Stephanie, I'm tired of this from you. Your sister isn't a baby anymore, and you act more like one every day."

"So I can go first?" Well played, little one.

"Yes, Caroline. Today you can go first. From now on, we'll take turns."

"That is SO not fair." Stephanie's voice rose.

"Actually, it's perfectly fair. How is it fair for you to always go first?" An attempt at reason. I silently wished her luck with that.

"Cuz she's a baby..."

Caroline's voice cut through in a surprising way. The words came out in a rush but they were crystal clear.

"I am NOT a baby cuz that thing you do that you said wasn't for babies I do that too and Mommy even helps me."

In the silence that followed, a pin dropping would have sounded like a truckload of steel bars tumbling down a staircase.

#### Chapter XXI (Rick)

As an engineer, I understand the phenomenon known as a 'race condition.' This is when a system has lots of things going on at once that are competing for attention. If the system can't sort out the priorities and keep things in order, all the competing things will crash into each other and eventually the system locks up and stops working. Or crashes and burns.

This is what my mind was experiencing as I lay in bed, trying to process what I'd just heard my six-year-old daughter proclaim.

"I am NOT a baby cuz that thing you do that you said wasn't for babies I do that too and Mommy even helps me."

By 'that thing you do,' it was quite clear that Caroline was referring to masturbation. The little one had caught her older sister in the act. I knew this, but was hoping it hadn't resulted in meaningful knowledge transfer. In retrospect, it was inevitable that Caroline would emulate anything she saw Stephanie doing. This shouldn't have been a surprise to anyone.

'Mommy even helps me' was another thing entirely. An utterly bewildering, fascinating, frightening and perhaps unbelievable thing.

The race in my head played out something like this, over the course of about five seconds: Denial. _Kids say strange things. Caroline may just be making that up and saying it to impress her sister._ Guilt. _Fuck. I started this. Now it's out of control in some very strange way._ Rationalization. _Caroline was probably inferring something that Carol hadn't intended. Carol had 'helped' Stephanie in a way, explaining things to her in simple terms. Perhaps this was like that._ Fear. _If this conversation goes any further, it could wreck us as a family. And me. And Carol. And the kids._ Empathy. _Carol might well be feeling a similar conflagration of thoughts and feelings._ Curiosity. _What if it was true? What would that mean?_ Yes, my warped mind went there. When I thought about things later, that was quite telling.

Fortunately my brain sorted out the jumble quickly enough for me to take action before another word was spoken. I needed to pull my family back from the brink of... something. Immediate intervention was required. I didn't have time to think through the details. I yanked on a pair of sweat pants and dashed.

In the bathroom, Carol and the girls were staring at each other. Caroline was defiant. Stephanie looked to be in some fugue state between shock, anger and amusement. Carol had her back to me but I saw her face in the mirror. Helplessness. Sadness. A hint of fear. It broke my heart.

Carol startled when I put my arms around her from behind. I held her tight across her chest and tummy, felt her heart racing, her body tense. In the mirror, her eyes closed. I decided to normalize.

"Good morning, my beautiful family. Since we all love each other so very much, it's quite silly to argue over something as dumb as the sink, don't you think?" I saw Stephanie's mouth open to speak. I gave her the most meaningful look I could. My eyes screamed at her and I shook my head slightly. _No, Stephanie. This is not the time for you to one-up your sister by announcing that you get your masturbation lessons from Daddy._ Thank God, she closed her mouth.

I didn't wait for a response. "Go get dressed for school, girls. We're running late." I wasn't able to completely control the tone of my voice. The intensity of the moment added a sharpness to my words. The girls scampered.

In the mirror, Carol was crying.

#### Chapter XXII (Stephanie)

My Daddy is confusing. I guess he's confused and so am I but geez. I wish he'd just make up his mind.

When we went to the pool without Mom or Caroline I thought it could be like it used to be. I had it in my head all the way to the pool. It's weird but it makes me warm down there when I think about it. When I think about taking my clothes off in front of Daddy. It used to scare me but now I know how it makes his eyes go funny. And how it makes other things happen.

So then he goes off to the boys' room and just leaves me standing there. He didn't even say anything. It was like he was saying what we did was bad and we're never going to do it again. I felt so totally stupid. I was a stupid baby that thought I was grown up and that Daddy liked me that way and we had something special that was just for us and our secret and he loved me. And I knew that all those things weren't really true and that I was only pretending. And that made me sad and mad and I felt really really really alone, because I thought Mommy didn't love me either. I wanted to go home right then but I had to go to the pool. A nice lady in the lockers asked me why I was crying but I just said I had a fight with my sister. That was kinda true. The lady said not to forget that we'll be sisters forever. Do grownups have a book or something that they all read with things to say to kids?

I couldn't hide how I felt. Daddy saw me. I don't know if that's what changed his mind. I don't care, really. I was just following him and trying not to cry til I saw where we were. He had the door open. He looked surprised, which was weird. I mean, he brought me there. I went in. He came in after. We only had our bathing suits on so it didn't take long to be naked. I was cold and shivery but not for long. Daddy was big. I think bigger than the first time, even. That made me happy.

We had to go back to the lockers to get our stuff after. The nice lady was there again. She asked if I was feeling better. It was kinda awks cuz I was naked when she asked. She only had on underpants and I tried not to look at her chest. Thank God she wasn't one of the old ones. I just said, "Yes, Ma'am."

She said, "Swimming is wonderful that way, isn't it? It washes away your cares." She pushed my wet hair back behind my ears with her fingers. She had a nice smile.

I couldn't help giggling. "Yes Ma'am. Swimming is awesome."

The lady bent down a little. "Aren't you just the most polite little girl. Are you going to shower, sweetie?"

Awks. I said, "No, I already did." I wondered if she saw me and Daddy come out of the other room.

She touched my cheek and said, "Okay then. Maybe I'll see you here again."

So then we get home and Daddy is being confusing again, almost pretending it didn't happen. I know he's alone in his room after Mommy goes to work. Sometimes I feel bad because I know it's Mommy's room too. I try not to think about what they do in there. They're supposed to do it. That's how come you get married. They do stuff that's just for grownups. But sex with yourself together is supposed to be for grownups too. I don't get it.

I figured out that I could make Daddy change his mind. He's supposed to be the Dad but he pays attention to me. He said he wasn't sorry about what we did. So I decided to do stuff. Thing is, I didn't really know what to do. I woke up early and listened until I heard Mommy leave. It was embarrassing when Daddy caught me outside his door with no underpants. But the way he talked to me that time made me think that he wanted to. He said we didn't have time. He didn't say I was being a stupid baby. I wanted him to see me naked. I think he watched when I took off my shirt.

The next day I made sure we had time. I took off my underpants in my room and I opened Daddy's door really quiet and I closed it really quiet and he was asleep so I took off my shirt so he'd see me as soon as he woke up. He looked so nice asleep. He just had a sheet over him. There was a bump in the sheet. It moved a little. I thought about it. I guess I started to move my arm. Then Daddy opened his eyes.

He kinda jumped when he saw me. It was funny. I looked to see if the bump got bigger. It did.

I'd seen Daddy do it three times by then. The first was when he didn't know I was there. Then the two times we did it together. The first time was so weird that I didn't really remember what I saw. The times together it was hard to watch him since I was doing it too and that's what I was thinking about most. I wanted to see better.

So I pulled the sheet off and I bent over the bed and got close to it. Daddy was looking at my butt. I think he likes it. That gave me the guts to tell him what I wanted.

It's so totally strange but so amazing, like it's alive. You can see his heart beating in it cuz it moves a little each time. It bends just a little and the end part looks like a hat and there's all these bumps and different skin colors up and down it. There's fur around it but it's short and there's not any on it but I can see where it would be. I guess Daddy shaves there like Mommy does. I was glad since it makes it easy to see everything.

The underneath part is the strangest of all. That's where the book said the baby stuff comes from. It moves too. Almost spooky. You're not supposed to kick boys there. Andrea did once and she got in a lot of trouble, but he had it coming. The boy rolled around on the ground for a long time.

Daddy was pulling on it so hard I was afraid it would come off. I saw how he moved his hand and squeezed and how it got leaky and then it got slippery and his hand moved faster. And he had that look in his eyes. Looking at me.

At the end it gets even bigger. The skin is so tight on it that you can almost see through it. I got really close. When the stuff came out I could even smell it. Kinda like clean dirt. And blood, like if you suck on a cut. And metal that's wet. But not like pee at all. Weird.

Daddy made pancakes and we got to school on time, so he didn't have any excuses anymore. I thought everything was perfect. Til the next day.

Mommy said that Caroline isn't a baby anymore. But one thing I know for sure is she can't keep her mouth shut, and that's a baby thing. She says whatever she thinks without thinking. Like she'll just say, "I farted." Awesome, thanks for sharing. Like we didn't know already.

Still it was really strange what my sister said in the bathroom. I didn't know what it meant exactly. Of course I thought about me and Daddy and I wondered if it was like that. But I wouldn't have said Daddy helped me. I would have said he showed me, or he did it with me. Caroline said 'helped.' But she doesn't know what she's saying half the time. I was about to ask what she meant when Daddy came in. The way he looked at me made me think I shouldn't say anything at all.

Mommy seemed upset. As I was going to get dressed I thought maybe it was my fault because of how Caroline saw me. I didn't want Mommy to be more mad at me than she already was. But Mommy talked to me about it, so she probably talked to Caroline too. I didn't know why Mommy would feel bad. I just hoped it wouldn't ruin things.

#### Chapter XXIII (Carol)

Actions have consequences. I see this every day. The thing is, people don't think about consequences. It's not that they don't find the potential punishments scary. Perpetrators don't think they're going to get caught. This is why the death penalty isn't the deterrent that many people hope it to be. You don't worry about the electric chair because you're the smart one who's going to get away with it.

I knew that Caroline was too young to filter what she said. That had been evident after her first trip to the Family Changing Room with her father, when she'd casually mentioned that she'd seen Daddy's penis. At the time, it was cute and funny. Right now, standing in the bathroom with my two daughters and enduring what seemed like the most painful and awkward silence of my life, I wondered if these two events were somehow connected. My husband didn't allow me much time to consider this, or to think about anything else.

My body went stiff when I felt Rick's arms around me. A natural reaction, since it was a surprise. But unlike all the other times, when I realized it was him I didn't relax and flow back into his embrace with a smile. His sudden presence could only mean that he'd heard it. I was rigid, faintly nauseous. Was he here to strangle me from behind? Would the arm over my chest move up to my throat and slowly tighten? I heard Rick tell the girls to go get dressed as though from a distance outside myself.

His arms didn't move. He pushed the bathroom door behind us closed with his foot. I felt his lips at the back of my neck. This seemed unlikely to be a prelude to violence. My mind started to reengage. This was Rick. He wouldn't prejudge. He was the calmest person I knew. He'd reassured me over my self-torment around the situation with Stephanie.

I swallowed. "Rick. I... I didn't. I mean..." I felt a sob rise and couldn't stop it.

He held me. "Carol. Shhhhh. Breathe. It's okay, I promise." I started to breathe. My stomach backed away from retching, but tears fell.

His voice was soft. "Sweetheart. Love of my life. My forever. It's okay. Tell me what happened and we'll deal with it together."

The first words I'd said were 'I didn't,' but I never had any thought of denying it. It was inconceivable that I'd call my daughter a liar or try to gaslight her into thinking that nothing had happened. What I'd been trying to say was 'I didn't mean for it to happen.' This was perfectly true. Nothing was planned. But things happened. That I felt I could tell my husband and was willing to accept the consequences was perhaps what saved us.

I swallowed. I let myself swim in his embrace. His hands were strong at my hips. Still, I couldn't turn and face him. I let my curves fit him and crossed my arms over his. I closed my eyes and I told him. I told him about the first bath, about Caroline at my breast. About the memories and the needs it recalled. How I'd let her suckle, surprising myself. That I'd touched myself as she did. That I'd recalled that night, when Rick had taken me while she was in bed with us. How she'd asked for another bath, and that I'd seen her little hand where I didn't expect to see it, doing what I didn't think she knew. How I wondered if I'd taught her somehow. How I came to know how she'd learned, and how I still blamed myself for that. How at bedtime her tiny hand went into her underpants, utterly without shame. She hasn't been taught about shame. Not yet.

Rick listened. He rocked me slowly. By then the tears had stopped but my eyes were still closed. I hadn't gotten to the end, though. Rick didn't let me get away with that. I didn't want him to let me escape. I just needed a little prod. He gave it.

"What did she mean, about helping?"

I told him.

"You touched her?"

"I touched her hand. Her hand was inside. Mine was outside. Outside of her panties. But on her hand."

Oddly, he kissed my neck. I wanted to explain. "I don't know why, Rick. I honestly don't."

That was the only lie I'd told. I did know why.

"You miss her. You wanted to be close to her. You... wanted to share her feelings."

He was rationalizing for me. He was right. I let those words rest. I nodded.

"How can you not be angry, Rick? Or disappointed. Or... disgusted."

"I'm still understanding, Carol. I want to understand." He paused for a moment. "When did it happen?"

I tensed again. _Oh fuck._ My head dropped.

"Last Thursday night, when I put her to bed."

Rick's body shifted against mine. Neither of us were likely to forget what had happened when I came to bed that night. I didn't want to think about what was in his mind just then.

A moment of silence. The second most difficult moment of silence in my life. And of that morning.

His arms. His breath at my nape.

"Here's what I know, Carol. I know that you love me completely. I know that you love our daughters even more. The idea that you could do anything intentional to harm any of us is unthinkable. You know this too. And you didn't. You didn't hurt anybody. I see how it drains you, how being away is eating at you. I see how Stephanie has started to separate and I know how that can feel. You know that I understand from when I was away. You reached for Caroline, in your need."

I trembled. I nodded slightly. "I shouldn't have."

Rick's hands moved. "I'll be last person to tell you that, Carol. Because I know you, and I know that you always do the right thing, more than anyone. Caroline misses you too. She's seeking comfort. She's found a comforting thing and couldn't imagine that it would be bad to share it with you. I can't honestly find anything wrong in that."

"For her part, no. Of course not."

"She needs you. Stephanie needs you. This family needs you. I need you most of all."

His arms tightened. As I pressed back against him, I felt his hardness. He was always hard in the morning, but in this moment it was a surprise. The bigger surprise was me. His hand moved down my stomach, palm pressed flat, into my shorts, into my panties, his fingers into my sex. I was wet. How could I be wet? Before I could answer myself Rick had yanked my shorts to my ankles and bent me over the sink, his hands up my shirt, clutching me against his chest, fingers twisting at my nipples. They had betrayed me too. He must have seen them, under my thin top.

These were the facts of the case. When later I imagined trying myself in court, my closing argument always summed up with this last dramatic point, presented to the jury with cold precision. "Ladies and Gentlemen, if you have any doubt as to what this woman was feeling about her actions, know this: She came first. When her husband took her at that pivotal time, her orgasm preceded his. I leave it to you to consider her fate."

#### Chapter XXIV (Rick)

We were all late to everything that day. Everyone was quiet. Caroline seemed to sense that she'd caused a ruckus and didn't want to make any more waves. I took Stephanie aside and told her not to poke at this, that we'd talk about it later. She felt the seriousness too and just nodded.

Carol and I hadn't looked at each other while we were fucking in the bathroom. It wasn't easy to look at each other afterwards. The implications of what passed between us that morning were complicated to say the least.

What did it mean that I didn't condemn her? What did she imagine I thought about her arousal? What did she think of mine? Round and round these questions swirled. It seemed forever to dinner. We were all exhausted. Carol and I sent the girls to bed early and retired to our room.

It wasn't like us to not talk, even when it wasn't easy. I relied on Carol to open the tough conversations. She seldom shied away.

"What happened this morning, Rick?" It was a fair question, and a dangerous one. She's too smart for me. I wanted her to take my words at face value. That I understood what she was feeling, and how it could have led to what happened. That I needed her and the family needed her.

"I meant everything I said, Carol. I've been thinking about it all day. Of course. But I wouldn't change a word of it."

She was on her side, facing away. I tentatively moved behind her, hand on her shoulder. Still difficult to look.

"It seemed like an odd time to fuck."

I've always liked that she knew how to use that word. It represented an intimacy between us. Sometimes we made love. Sometimes we fucked. This morning was fucking, without doubt. How like her, to go right to the heart of the matter.

"I guess it was odd. But I guess it was perfect, too."

She turned her head to me and looked. Really looked into my eyes, for the first time that day. It seemed to break the tension.

"Perfect?"

"I said that I need you most of all. I do. Nothing could ever change that. I felt it, right then. I need you and I needed you to know that I need you and that nothing else matters. You are the better half of me. Maybe you made a mistake. It didn't hurt anybody. That's all I know."

"So you still love me."

"Of course I do. That you could tell me, that you could be that open... I've never loved you more. Don't be silly. But the fucking, that was about need. I imagined what it would mean if we let this come between us. It scared the shit out of me. I wouldn't let that thought linger for even a second. I wouldn't exist without you, Carol."

"That's such bullshit." There was an edge to her words, but a softness in her face.

"Please don't ever try to prove that by leaving me."

She swallowed and closed her eyes. The next words came slowly. "You almost have to think that it turned me on."

I'd hoped that we could get by without going there. I have to give my wife credit. She won't let anything lie until she's plumbed the depths of it. I took a moment to decide how to answer. I tried to think like a lawyer.

"Did it?"

She opened her eyes. I was surprised that she wasn't overtly angry at the question. She turned her head to the side. I tried to pull her close but she resisted. She was struggling with the answer herself.

"It wasn't like that. I mean, I didn't think of it that way."

"That Thursday night, when you came to bed..."

"I know, Rick. That's why you almost have to think... that."

I waited. Anything I said would probably have been the wrong thing.

After a time, she went on. "It was about need. I needed you. I was empty inside. I was afraid I was losing my family and it was making me... crazy."

I kissed her forehead and waited. She read my eyes. When she spoke again, her voice was gentle.

"Like you. This morning? Needed me?"

We understood each other through each other's heart. I kissed her lips, lightly. She let me hold her. We slept that way.

#### Chapter XXV (Rick)

Over the weekend, Carol and I slowly got back to some approximation of normal. We were both still working to understand things, but we'd come through it far enough to know that the light at the end of the tunnel wasn't an oncoming train.

I reflected on our talk, when I'd asked her directly about her feelings. She'd said, 'I didn't think of it that way.' I fully believed that the sex on that Thursday night was just what she'd said, that it was about need. I also had to believe that there was more to the story.

We've been married for ten years and have been lovers for sixteen years. I know her body. I'm proud of how well I know it, and she appreciates this. That Friday morning, in the bathroom, the signals from her body were quite clear.

We were both in a strange state of mind at that point. She was frightened and guilt-ridden. I was confused and dealing with my own guilt. But as she opened up and told the story of her times with Caroline, in the bath, in the bed... there was no denying it. I knew what I'd find when I put my hand into her pants. As this became evident, my own reaction was inevitable.

Can we (meaning human beings) completely separate our higher-level emotions from our baser instincts and physical responses? Do our bodies react even when we're distraught? As a man, I can say with certainty that this can happen. For us, the evidence is indisputable. It's been a bone of contention (can't help it sorry) in legal matters involving men who have been raped by women. 'If he really didn't want it, he wouldn't have gotten hard.' Well no. He couldn't help it, even if he hated every second.

I didn't know what to think about this, much less what to do about it. It didn't make me think less of my wife. I tried to avoid considering any further implications, though at some level I knew such thoughts were inevitable. For the moment at least, it seemed best to just let it be. We did normal things and talked about normal subjects and had normal meals and the girls had normal fights and by Sunday night, things seemed almost... normal.

**************************

Monday morning. I opened my eyes. Looked at the clock. Seven fifteen.

I wasn't alone. There was a shape under the sheet next to me. A small shape. It was moving.

I pushed the sheet down. Stephanie grinned up at me.

"Good morning, Daddy." She said it like she wasn't naked. She was profoundly naked, curled up with her head on my chest.

"Stephanie..."

"Seven fifteen, Daddy. Shush."

With that, my daughter put her hand on me. Her eyes moved from her hand to my face and back. Her hand, tentatively at first, was decidedly and unavoidably wrapped around my cock. It was hard. She looked proud.

"Stephanie." I had to stop to take a breath as she started to move her hand. "Stephanie..."

"Whattttttt?" She sounded impatient.

"What are you doing, sweetheart?"

Her one word answer was, I suppose, to be expected.

"Helping." It was clear that she didn't expect an argument. Her expression became more concentrated as her slender fingers explored me.

"Oh God." Not to be outdone, was my eight-year-old. Her sister would never have anything on her.

She'd watched me, last Thursday. That was the day before last Friday. So she sort of knew what to do. The idea of stopping her crossed my mind. It crossed in a flash and passed out of sight into the wilderness of forgotten ideas, never to be seen again.

I let my hand rest on her bottom. Her naked bottom. I'd had her bare bottom in the crook of my arm when she was tiny. I'd swatted her bottom playfully through her clothes. I'd watched her bottom and stared at her bottom since we'd started our journey in the Family Changing Room. I let my hand rest there, but it wouldn't just rest. It felt even better than it looked, the curvature perfect, the smoothness immaculate, the paleness between the tan lines compelling.

"Harder, sweetheart. You won't hurt it."

She nodded, her smile seeming to spread. I'd accepted her assistance. Her arm moved faster. She had elegant little muscles now. Swimming is good for that. I squeezed her rump.

When I was close, I wrapped my hand around hers, around hers and around myself. She let me take control but didn't relinquish her grip. Her gaze met mine. I was helpless. A gasp. I held her there. Her eyes were wide as she felt the surges. And after a long and indescribably perfect moment, we were sticky. She made a slight scrunchy face and wiped her hand on my chest.

"Omelettes please. We have time. Seven twenty-five." Apparently breakfast-to-order was now also part of the expectations.

I couldn't take my eyes from her bottom as she bounced out of the room.

#### Chapter XXVI (Carol)

Rick and I seemed to be watching and listening to each other with a new intensity that was not entirely comfortable. The meaning of words and actions was amplified, parsed, interpreted. There's an underlying bedrock of love and trust that prevented this from getting out of control. But there were unanswered questions for which we were both seeking clues. Neither of us was ready to address them head-on.

What had already been said and done was also the subject of further scrutiny. Rick asked me if my interactions with Caroline aroused me. That meant he thought it was possible. How could he think that of me? He said he'd be the last person to judge me. Was he giving me permission to have those feelings? Or to let those things happen again?

To not know what Rick was feeling was scary. My own feelings were a dense smouldering hairball. I'm not at all used to being uncertain, especially about myself. Confidence is critical for a lawyer, a parent, a spouse. I'd cultivated confidence carefully and usually felt at ease in my own skin. I was able to project confidence even when I felt my feet slipping under me.

For a child, awareness of sex is a loss of innocence. My children losing their innocence is a precursor to me losing them altogether. One part of me was fighting against that inevitability with ferocity. This conflict seemed to underlie my feelings about Stephanie and her closed door. The sense of impending loss was even more acute with my youngest.

It's now impossible to deny that my daughters have sexual feelings. Even so, my heart tells me that they're still innocent in all the ways that matter. I want to protect them from the world where there are actual evils that they can't possibly understand. Knowing their own bodies and finding pleasure therein wasn't in the same category.

Of course I read about it. Children are sexual beings. Fetuses masturbate in the womb, yada yada. Fine.

I'd never fully answered Rick's question. Did I get off watching my six-year-old touch herself?

The sight had surprised me. It had disturbed me in some ways. Loss of innocence... how did she learn? But if I had to choose words, I would say natural, not perverse. Beautiful, not obscene. Comfort, not abuse. Warmth, not heat. Sharing, not taking.

I didn't tell her to stop. I didn't tell her to do it in her room, by herself. So lonely, that. I didn't just watch. I can try to write all of these things off as manifestations of my other needs, my emptiness, my stress. That wouldn't be honest, though. Something in me understood that honesty - with myself, and eventually with Rick - was essential to our future.

Childbearing leaves you asymmetrical, physically so. My breasts will never have matching size or shape again. The red scars of pregnancy on my thighs have faded but still mark me unevenly, unmistakably a mother. It also skews your life in every which way, between family and career, between husband and offspring. I was precariously off-balance.

The answer to Rick's question is 'yes.' This is terrifying.

In the haze of confusion this all created, my heightened senses and hyperactive brain detected other things as well. I saw how Rick and Stephanie looked at each other. I knew I was being ridiculous. Girls fall in love with their fathers. I did. It was never sexual. Daughters have their fathers wrapped around their little fingers, and fathers love it. That's what I was seeing, I told myself. I also saw Stephanie's door, closed to me, a metaphor for our relationship.

I had an experience with my daughter. Immediately thereafter I fucked my husband with an intensity that I didn't fully understand.

I told my husband about my experience with my daughter. Then we fucked, in the bathroom, over the sink. I could say that he fucked me, but that wouldn't be the complete truth. Who are we? What are we becoming? This is the most terrifying of all.

#### Chapter XXVII (Stephanie)

I can't believe I did that with Daddy. I liked it. Daddy liked it too, I could tell. And not just cuz the stuff went all over. I saw it in his face.

It feels so amazing. Hard and soft and warm and moving and his heart in it. The end was like it was gonna explode and then it did. I got it on my hand and that was weird but I didn't really mind. I want to do it more. Like every morning. Seven fifteen.

Daddy talked to me about Mommy and Caroline. He said they just cuddled and I shouldn't talk to them about it at all and especially not about me and him. He said Mommy wouldn't understand. He didn't really have to tell me. I wonder though, if Mommy would understand. If she helps Daddy and she helps Caroline, I guess she likes to help. So maybe she wouldn't be mad at me if I like to help too.

I wondered about Caroline. I guess she figured it out after she saw me. She copies everything I do. It's so annoying.

So she comes in my room again. My door was open so I guess it was okay.

I said, "You're supposed to ask permission."

"Only if the door's closed. Then I'm supposed to."

"No. All the time." I made up that rule, but it's my room. Like Mommy when she says 'My house, my rules.'

Caroline looked like she didn't believe me, but what could she do?

"Okay... so... can I?"

"What's the magic word?" Sometimes I just liked to tease her. I can't help it.

"Pleeeassseeeeee?"

I sighed. "Okkkaaaayyyyyy. But don't bother me." I was reading a chapter book. She can't read chapter books yet.

She sat on my bed and started kicking her legs, making a bedquake.

"Cut it out."

She stopped. But then like a second later, "I'm bored. What do you want to do?"

I said, "I want to read without you bugging me."

She looked sad. I don't really want to be mean to her. I used to be a baby too. Mommy reminds me all the time. I put my book down and thought. And I had an idea. Maybe it wasn't the best idea, but you can't decide about what ideas to have. They just show up and then you have to figure out what to do with them.

"Close the door," I said. She did it and sat back on the bed.

"How do you do it?" I said it quiet so she'd know I was talking about secrets. She didn't get it.

"Do what?"

Geez. "You know. The thing. Between your legs. How do you do it?"

She shrugged. "Like you. Like Mommy."

"You saw Mommy?" Oh my God.

"Kinda. It was in the tub so I didn't really see."

I was surprised but I guess I shouldn't have been since if Mommy was helping then maybe she showed her. Mommy never showed me. She just told me and it wasn't even right.

"Let me see."

Caroline bit her lip. "Mommy said it's private for just us."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have yelled about in front of everybody."

"I didn't mean to. It just came out. You made fun of me."

"I was just saying what's true. You proved it by blabbing. So let me see."

It was easy to win arguments with her. Mommy said maybe I can be a lawyer someday but I'm not sure I want to since it means you never get to be at home and even when you are you're tired all the time.

Caroline stuck our her lip like she didn't want to, but she did anyways. She stuck her hand in her shorts.

"Duh. I can't see. Take them off."

I knew she didn't care about being naked. Like a baby. She laid back on the bed and pushed down her shorts and underpants and put her hand back there. She was just kind of rubbing all over. Like I used to do, before Daddy told me.

"That's what I thought. You're doing it wrong."

"I am? It feels nice."

"Ya you are. You don't even know what nice is."

She pouted. I rolled my eyes. "Okaaaayyyyy." I was in my pj pants and I took them down. I wasn't wearing undies. I did that a lot lately since it made Daddy look at me more.

"Put your feet on mine." Her feet are tiny. Her legs are short and even a little chubby still. Baby legs. She's like that between her legs too. Baby kitty. I tickled a little with my toes and she squealed. I did the shush finger on my lips.

I pushed her legs apart and I spread myself out with my fingers so she could see the bump. I guess I'm not so shy anymore.

She made a face. "It's weird," she said.

"Ya, it is kinda. But it's just part of you. Ears are weird too." Her insides looked mostly like mine, just smaller and not so pink. Little baby bump. I showed her how to do the pinching and turning and pulling. She leaned over to watch me. It took her a while but she finally got it. Her face was so funny, all red surprise like she fell head first into a watermelon.

My butt got squirmy and she wiggled too but I wasn't sure if she was just doing it cuz I did.

"Did you feel it inside? Squeezing and squeezing?"

She nodded but I don't know if she really did it.

"So, that's how you do it."

"T-thanks. I like it." She said that like she meant it. It made me feel good. Maybe I'd let her come in my room more.

I had to ask her. I know Daddy said not to. "Like... how did Mommy... help?"

She turned her mouth sideways. Curled her toes. Her face was just pink now. "Just..." She put her hand between her legs and wiggled her fingers.

"She did it?"

Caroline shook her head. "Not exactly. Just outside. On top. Of mine."

I was almost jealous of her. "She never did that with me."

Her eyes got big. "Maybe Mommy likes me better."

I tackled her on the bed and tickled her til she begged for mercy. She finally escaped and ran out of my room half naked. I threw her clothes into the hall and slammed my door. When I thought about it, I wasn't totally mad at her. I had Daddy after all.

A while later I heard Mom in the hall. "Caroline. Will you PLEASE stop leaving your clothes all over the house?"

I laughed so hard in my pillow I thought I was gonna choke.

#### Chapter XXVIII (Caroline)

Mommy's mad at me. Or something.

I guess I wasn't supposed to tell but it's confusing. I thought we didn't talk about naked stuff 'cept in the family and Stephanie and Daddy are in the family so I didn't think that was telling.

Now Mommy's different. She doesn't want to take a bath with me anymore. I asked her and she said I wasn't a baby and I could take a bath by myself. And I said I know I'm not a baby but. But. But but but. I still want to? Cuz it's nice. Is nice only for babies?

I told her that and she didn't say anything for a while. Then she said no, nice isn't just for babies. But I could try to go by myself.

I tried. She did the water and then she left and closed the door.

It made me sad. I took off my clothes and sat on the side of the tub and looked at the water. It was steamy and lonesome.

Mommy wasn't sure I could do it by myself after all. She peeked in and I was just sitting there. Maybe I was crying a little. Stephanie says that's a baby thing but I know she cries too.

I said I was sorry that I said that and I didn't know I wasn't supposed to cuz family and she looked sad and kissed my head and said it's okay. I held her neck and she picked me up and then she said you know what, nice should be for everybody and yes we're all in the family and that I didn't do anything wrong.

I said I won't tell anymore. Mommy smiled in a funny way. She said she didn't want me to grow up. I want to grow up. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don't want to grow up at all. Right then I didn't want to, so I said me neither. She got undressed. The bath was really nice.

#### Chapter XXIX (Rick)

Home should be a sanctuary where nothing feels awkward. Things felt awkward in our home. That put stress on everyone, and it seeped through the nascent fissures in our family like fungus growing between cracks in the bathroom tile.

It seemed like Carol and I were both waiting for another shoe to drop. We hadn't had sex since that day in the bathroom. Perhaps we were afraid it would be an admission of... something... if either of us initiated.

The next Saturday, I arrived back from running errands to hear splashing in the bathroom. Carol. And Caroline. Talking softly. An occasional giggle. "Duck your hair, sweetpea." Lovely sounds. Perfect sounds. Not awkward.

I almost opened the door to see, to match the lovely perfect sounds with a lovely perfect picture. But I didn't. _Are you molesting my daughter? Just checking._ She might hear this in her head, even though I would never say it. I wouldn't, couldn't make her think that way.

Still my brain betrayed me. It created the image that I told myself I didn't want to see. Caroline in her mother's lap, her short legs splayed, my wife's slender fingers nestled at the soft bare folds, moving ever so slowly, her lips whispering in her daughter's ear. The natural and the unnatural were flowing together in ways both disturbing and compelling. I swallowed, tried to shake the picture from my eyes and set about unpacking the groceries.

Carol came into the kitchen, dressed in shorts and a tank top, hair wet, the moisture leaving a dark pattern in the fabric on her back. She smiled. A little awkwardly. _Yes, I took a bath with her. So? Is that a bad thing now?_

I kissed my wife. Held her for a moment. Smelled her. Clean bath smell. Lovely and perfect. She held me too.

"You know there's nothing sexier in the world than a man putting away groceries," she said.

I let my hands wander to her bottom.

"Then next I will do the dishes, and I will have you at my mercy."

"You always have me at your mercy, Rick. Always."

This was a much more serious response than I expected. I moved my hands back up to her waist. "Is everything okay, sweetheart?"

She dropped her eyes into the narrow space between us.

"Caroline thinks she did something wrong."

"She didn't." I said this reflexively. It's a bad habit I have, stating the obvious when I should just let the obvious be obvious. _And you didn't either, Carol._ I almost said this. It was less obvious, and I didn't.

Her look was just slightly sharp. "I know, Rick. I told her so. I think it's ok."

"Sorry. I know that you know. I'm glad that it's okay. But are you okay? I don't mean are you okay about this particular thing. Are you okay?"

"I don't know. Maybe work was a bad idea."

"You know that I'll support you and be totally good with any decision you make about that."

"And force the tradeoff on you again? Make you be the one who feels like they're not part of the family?"

She blinked. Her eyes were wet. I knew how she felt. That feeling is horrible.

"We can make it work either way, Carol. I think we care about each other too much to let anything break us. Don't we?"

She nodded. I tried to fill the void. "We can do more things together, the four of us. We've been running around too much on the weekends, always heading in different directions. Let's not do that so much. Let's... figure it out."

She nodded and let her head rest on my chest.

The alarm on the refrigerator door sounded, telling us that it had been left open. Unpacking had been interrupted. I kissed Carol's hair. Life went on.

**************************

That night, Stephanie went to sleep over at Andrea's house. This gave both Carol and I some angst for separate reasons. Carol was worried that Andrea would encourage Stephanie's precociousness. I was afraid it would be the other way around.

After Monday, Carol had shifted her hours that week so that she could be home in the morning and do breakfast duty. Hence there hadn't been any further seven-fifteen visitations from Stephanie. My eldest daughter and I were anxious in a number of ways. Anxious for it to happen again. Anxious about what it meant, and where it might go. Anxious about how the shape of our family was devolving from a locked-in four-of-a-kind to a much weaker two-pair.

The incident with Caroline seemed to have further impressed on Stephanie how important it was to not talk about things. Still, I felt it necessary to talk to her in the car on the way to drop her off. She seemed to anticipate my concern and responded to my stern look before I said a word.

"I'm not Caroline, Daddy. I don't blab."

"I know, Stephanie. But... I know a little about girls, too. You might want to... brag? Or... show off?"

Her face went red. "I wouldn't do that with Andrea, Daddy."

I found her phrasing curious. "Ummm. Not with Andrea."

"Not with anybody." She didn't sound quite so sure about this statement.

"Not with _anybody_?"

"Not with anybody else."

"Not with anybody _else_."

"Daddy, stop saying what I said. It's annoying."

"Sorry. Okay. Stephanie, did you brag or show off with someone?" I swallowed. _Fuck._

She chewed her lip. "Kinda? But just Caroline, Daddy. She was doing it wrong. I only showed her. I didn't say anything."

I breathed again.

She went on, no doubt intending to be helpful. "I thought it was okay since she was doing it anyway and Mommy was helping so she didn't care."

I nodded and hoped she wouldn't ask the next question. Of course she did. Well, she tried.

"Daddy. If Mommy helps Caroline then how come... I mean... does it mean..."

"No, Stephanie. It doesn't mean that we can talk to Mommy about what we do. I know... it's confusing. But it's different. It was just cuddling, really. Close cozy cuddling and it became something a little more. It's not like... us."

Stephanie thought for a minute, looking out the car window.

"Cuz what we do is sex? I mean, kinda sex?"

I swallowed, oddly proud of my eight-year-old for being able to say this more clearly than I seemingly could.

"And we're not supposed to do sex."

I nodded, then quickly shook my head. "No. Not supposed to. People would... they wouldn't understand."

"But we both like it."

"Yes, sweetheart. But other people won't understand. Even Mommy. Maybe especially Mommy."

Her face was a little sad. "Okay. I guess she has Caroline and I have you."

I winced. It was too true. "We're a family, Stephanie. We all have each other, in all the really important ways. Just this one way... we're a little... different."

I wanted to make this fine distinction defensible, sustainable, even reasonable. In the moment, my warped mind accepted the idea.

"I miss doing it, Daddy."

 _Oh God._ "I miss it too." My turn to blush.

She giggled softly and put her small hand in my lap as I drove. Her fingers traced the unmistakable outline that extended painfully down the leg of my pants. "Ya. I know."

#### Chapter XXX (Rick)

When I got back to the house after dropping Stephanie, Carol had Caroline in her pjs, popcorn made and a movie queued up. We settled in on the couch, the three of us. Perfect and lovely. Caroline laid between her mother and I, her head resting on Carol's chest, flickers from the tv dancing reflected in her pale blue eyes. Her flanneled bottom was warm against my leg. I ran my fingers through Carol's hair as the animated rat who was somehow a chef made his way through computer-rendered Paris, finding a way to fulfill his culinary dreams.

The movie was entertaining enough that I didn't really notice what was happening on the couch. At one point I glanced at Carol and she was staring at me. Then she looked down at Caroline. Our little girl was sleepy, and even at six when she was tired she sometimes sucked her thumb. We discouraged it because of her teeth, and it was becoming less frequent. Stress manifesting, perhaps.

Carol looked at me again, her eyes strangely helpless. I studied Caroline more thoroughly. One diminutive hand was at her chin. I let my eyes travel lower. Her other hand was unmistakably in her pants. It wasn't still.

I showed Carol my very best 'I've got nothing' expression. She seemed almost desperate. I tried to help.

"Caroline. Are you sleepy, sweetpea? Should we tuck you in?"

She opened her eyes wider and shook her head.

"We talked about your thumb, kitten." She reluctantly withdrew it from her mouth. Her other hand persisted.

I looked at Carol. She made her attempt.

"Would you like to do that in your room, sweetheart?" I heard her voice strive for casual and miss.

Caroline seemed unconcerned that we'd noticed. For her, it was comfort.

"No thank you." We'd been working on manners. "I think Remy cooks better than Mister Skinner even."

Carol blinked at me. I shrugged. I still had nothing. I touched her cheek. After a long moment Carol laid her hand on Caroline's back and turned her face back to the tv. Her eyes rested there uneasily.

We watched the movie. Caroline squirmed. Stretched. Yawned. There was no obvious goal to her touching, no apparent culmination. Eventually her eyelids fluttered, her hand still buried in her drawers but now quiescent. Carol scooped her up. Caroline opened her eyes a little.

"Noooo Mommy. I want to see the end."

"It's hard to see with your eyes closed, little one. Time for bed." She kissed Caroline's hair.

I watched them go and headed to bed myself. Carol joined me soon after.

"She was out like a light," said my wife. Nothing else to say. Nothing else to wonder about.

I watched her undress. She left her underpants on. Pulled the covers back for her. She slid in beside me. I took her head into the crook of my arm and pressed it to my chest. Her hand on my tummy. My lips at her forehead. Her hand moved lower, tentatively, unlike her. Perhaps afraid of what she'd find.

I'm not sure if it was a conscious thing. It's not like I can really decide. I wasn't aroused.

I should say, I wasn't physically aroused. She took me into her hand and I felt her breathe out, her body unwinding. Relief?

What I'd seen was lovely. Comfort. Bliss. It bore only a vague relationship to what passed between Stephanie and I. Somewhere inside I knew that this distinction was essential. Carol was sorting things in her mind like I was. Perhaps this moment let her find her own compartments. She and I, she and Caroline, she and I and Caroline. These things distinct, somehow not connected. She needed this to be defensible, sustainable, even reasonable.

I responded to her touch with cautious intensity. She pressed me flat with her palm and rubbed... my hardness grew against her... she gripped and tugged slowly, coaxing... I turned on my side and brushed her lips with mine... she waited until I came at her again, more urgently, engulfing... my hands peeled her panties down and she lifted to allow it... pushed them off with her feet to be forgotten in the sheets... her knee bent, sliding over my hip, my better half and I, side by side, face to face... I guided myself to her heat, my fingers seeking, lightly pinching, twisting... a soft gasp from her into my kiss.

I entered her slowly, letting each movement take me slightly deeper, my fingers relentless. I let her quim clutch at me, deep inside, her spasms milking. I dared not move so as to give her every moment of my hardness... as her third climax rolled, my restraint was washed away... I drove deep with a profound shudder.

Nothing to say. Nothing to wonder about. Just bliss.

#### Chapter XXXI (Rick)

When I picked Stephanie up at Andrea's house the next morning, I wasn't sure I was looking at my daughter. She emerged from the house in denim shorts too short and a crop top too cropped and sunglasses meant to make her look 16. I didn't remember her owning clothes like that. Her legs were longer than I remembered. I realized that her ninth birthday was rushing on, only a month away.

My gaze followed her as she said her goodbyes. I opened the car door for her, unable to look away.

She noticed. Once we'd pulled out she gave me an odd look. "Are you okay, Daddy?" She turned and put her knee up on the seat, stretching the shorts over her shape. I tried to keep my eyes on the road.

"I'm fine, princess." I swallowed. "Your mother might not approve of the outfit."

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "We only cut them a little bit, Daddy."

"Oh?"

"Ya. Andrea helped me. She's really good with scissors."

"You cut your clothes up?"

"So?"

"Stephanie." I didn't really know what to say next.

"Whaaattttttttt?"

I looked for a place to stop. Fortunately it was Sunday and stores were closed. I found an empty parking lot and pulled in. 

Stephanie's face became anxious. "Am I in trouble, Daddy?"

"Not yet." I couldn't help but smile. My eyes traveled up her surprisingly long legs. The taut fabric, just there.

She noticed. Her expression morphed into an impish grin. "You said Mommy wouldn't like it. I didn't do it for her."

I stated the obvious, hoping to avoid the other obviousness. "We have to be careful, Stephanie."

She dropped her eyes. "I know. I just... I see... how you looked at me."

I put my hand on her bare leg to reassure her. The smooth warmth of her skin seeped into the flesh of my palm and seemed to draw it upward, toward the taut fabric. I had to think hard to stop my hand from moving.

"I think you should change back into the clothes you wore last night, sweetpea."

She looked around, out of the car windows.

I said, "There's nobody around. No one will see." I paused, again with the obvious. "Nobody but me."

She bit her lip. "You like it. Don't you, Daddy?"

I could only nod. Her grin came back. She crawled nimbly into the back seat and laid on it, trying to stay as far out of view as possible. Opened her backpack and pulled out her jeans and tshirt from the day before.

"Keep watch, Daddy. Tell me if somebody comes."

"I will, sweetheart." But my eyes were locked on her.

She watched my face as she pulled off the crop top, her prefect flatness and the curve of her tummy a spectacle. She started to put her slender arms into the tshirt.

I spoke. The sound was surprising to me.

"No."

She stopped with the shirt and blinked at me.

"What?"

"The shorts. Take off the shorts."

I'd never explicitly directed her in this way, just for my pleasure. It was intoxicating. She seemed to feel the intensity in my voice. Her face flushed red, the glow slowly spreading down her neck. She set the tshirt aside and pushed her sandals off with her toes... undid the button of the shorts... unzipped them... lifted her bottom and squirmed them down over her hips... her pale blue underpants came down part way, caught up by the tight pants. She saw the top of her cleft exposed and stopped pushing at the shorts to pull up her panties.

"No."

She swallowed. "Daddy..."

"Nobody can see you, kitten. Nobody but me. I see you. Keep going." My face felt hot, matching hers.

She got the shorts down to her ankles and kicked them off. Her underpants were bunched around her hips, her bare sex partly uncovered. She reached for the jeans.

"No."

I saw her tremble a little. I reached back and laid my hand on her chest, gently. Her breath shivered in.

I heard myself say, "Touch yourself."

Her eyes seemed to drink from mine. Her hand moved slowly down her tummy until her fingers met the subtle lift of her pudendum and slipped between the outer folds. Her eyes closed, but only for a moment. When they opened, they sought mine again and met them. I let my fingers roam over her chest.. discovered a tiny nipple and teased it in a small circle... a whisper of a gasp as it crinkled to a fine point.

"D-Daddy... Daddy... this is scary..."

Her words brought me back to some semblance of sanity. I moved my hand up to cup her cheek. I gathered my wits, realizing along the way what an incredibly stupid thing I was doing at that moment. I looked around the car and only breathed again when I saw that there was no movement in the area.

"This is why, Stephanie. This is why we have to be careful. Because... I don't think we can stop."

She nodded very slowly. "I don't think so either, Daddy."

I felt helpless. I held her small round face. "Then we have to help each other think, princess. We have to help each other to be careful."

I handed her the tshirt. When she was dressed she crawled back into the front seat and we drove home in silence, our eyes meeting furtively. When we got home, Stephanie sprinted for her room. And closed the door.

#### Chapter XXXII (Stephanie)

My Dad freaked me out. I was never scared with him before but this time I was.

I wanted him to look at me, that way. I told Andrea I liked a boy in my class and I wanted to tease him. She got out the scissors. I knew it was bad to cut my clothes but I wasn't thinking so much. I mean, I was thinking about Daddy and not about anything else. So she cut my shorts shorter. Then I cut them even more shorter. When I had them on her Mom looked at me kinda funny but she didn't say anything.

Then Daddy came to get me. It totally worked. I saw him look. I felt it.

But then in the car I thought he was mad. He was right about Mom. That's when I started to get scared. It got a lot more scary when he stopped the car and told me to change clothes.

Being naked in the car was part of it. That's pretty weird cuz what if somebody saw me. But it was more how he looked and how he talked. He saw me naked lots before but it was different, like his eyes wanted to eat me up. When I tried to get dressed and he said 'No' like that it went right through me. Like I had to do what he said. I was shaking all over.

Thing is, I can't stop thinking about it. His face. His voice. How it felt.

When we got home I ran to my room and I took off everything and I did it. Did it and did it and did it. I kept hearing him in my head saying 'Touch yourself.' Like I had to. I rubbed my chest like he did and I felt it all over. I did it til I was sore.

He said we can't stop. It's scary but I think that too. He said we got to be careful. I don't think I know how.

#### Chapter XXXIII (Carol)

For a long time I thought that parents had to be selfless. That it was all about the kids, that in some way your own purpose became theirs. Then I came to believe that it was possible to have everything, to keep some part of myself while giving the rest. That work and life could be separate, if not equal. But I've never been good at balance. I immerse myself in whatever I do. I can't imagine being any other way. I wouldn't want to be.

Rick's unquestioning and unflagging acceptance of this -- and of me all together -- is the rock that I stand on. It's okay for me to be out of balance when he's there, clasping my waist securely as I lean out over whatever precipice I'm flirting with at the time.

I'm fully reconciled to my need for him. I'm not ashamed of it. When I told him that I'm at his mercy, I meant it. Especially now, with the situation with the girls. He knows, I'm sure of it. He knows that it wasn't just about going back to work and missing them and feeling guilty and empty. Those are powerful feelings, and no doubt they made me vulnerable. They opened me to things that I would never have let happen had I been in better balance.

When those things happened, I didn't resist them. They seemed more natural to me than the alternatives. Was it more natural to allow my daughter a suckle, or to deny it? More natural to let her explore her nascent body and find its comfort and pleasure, or to scold her and tell her it's bad? More natural to guide and encourage, or to send her to her room to be alone and confused? And for my part, is it natural for my body to respond to the comfort, the intimacy, the bliss? These things raced through my head, but for all their rational merit they were unable to scrub away the shame.

I tested the power of my shame. I challenged myself to let it guide me to the true and righteous path. I had enough religion to believe such things are possible. I got into the bathtub with Caroline with every expectation that my shame would protect me, and her.

When her little hand sank beneath the water with clear intent, I tried to distract her.

"Let's wash your hair."

"After, Mommy."

"After?"

"Ya. After."

I watched, ashamed. It was different this time. She spread her short legs. She spread herself, her smooth folds. She pinched, right where she should. She rolled and tugged with her fingers. I found myself unable to move, unable to speak. Her legs stretched and I felt her breath quicken as she lay on my chest. There was a tremble and a small gasp and an unwinding of my precious baby into a puddle of warm softness as every part of her relaxed, her face a mask of peace.

She turned to suckle. I allowed it, in that moment no longer ashamed. If there had been any doubt about my own response, it was belied by the hot spear of need that drove up from my sex when her lips engaged. Had I touched myself, I wouldn't have been able to hide my climax from my six year old.

I ran my fingers through her fine hair. Eventually I found my voice, if not my words. "You... that was... it wasn't the same, lovebug."

She looked up with soft eyes and her mouth detached from my distended nipple. "Stephanie said I was doing it wrong."

Of course. My emotions ran through a spectrum in an instant. I couldn't hold onto anger over what I'd started. I was afraid, leaning out over a precipice. I imagined Rick releasing me, letting me fall. But I couldn't hold this thought either. It didn't fit with everything I knew about him, and about us. And shame... shame is weak, it turns out.

"Let's wash your hair, sweetpea."

"Okay Mommy." She was all smiles and giggles again. I heard Rick come in. His footsteps in the hall. He didn't open the bathroom door.

Rick and I talked. We always talked. Usually we talked about things. In this case, we'd talked around it. I've no doubt that he'd forgiven me. That was never in question, really. Beyond forgiveness is acceptance. The things he'd said gave me to understand that he thought what happened was harmless. It was less clear that he fully understood and accepted how I felt about it. Deep inside I knew that I needed for him to both understand and accept my most shameful thoughts and feelings.

All this led to me, on a Sunday afternoon, standing outside of Stephanie's closed door. Standing, and listening.

#### Chapter XXXIV (Rick)

I watched Stephanie scurry from the car and make a beeline for her room, slamming the door behind her.

Carol watched Stephanie dash by from the kitchen where she was chopping something, probably for dinner. She called after her daughter, voice raised in gently amused exasperation without a trace of anger. At least in some ways, things were normal.

"Hi Stephanie. Welcome home. Did you have fun at Andrea's? I love you tooooooooo."

Stephanie's voice came through the door, muffled. "Hi Mom. Ya. Me too."

Carol sighed and shrugged. I held her from behind, my hands on her tummy. She kept chopping. "She does love you," I offered.

"I know. Is she okay?"

I asked an honest question, more meaningful than Carol could know. "How does one tell, with an almost nine-year-old girl?"

"Sarcasm and peevishness. If those ever stop, we'll know there's a problem."

"Were you that way?"

She thought for a moment. "Not til I was eleven." She thought more. "Okay, maybe ten."

"She'll be nine next month."

Carol face was a little sad. She nodded. "Precocious."

"She can't help it. Genes and all." I kissed her neck and went to catch up on grading papers.

**************************

Some time later I was distracted by the smell of good cooking. A roast beast, perhaps. I realized that I hadn't had lunch and the aroma made it impossible to focus. I wandered toward the kitchen.

Stephanie's room was on the way. Her door was closed. She hadn't emerged since we'd gotten home and it worried me. I knew that I'd scared her. I'd scared myself. I didn't know what it would mean. But that feeling, not having any idea what would happen next... that was pretty much how things were these days.

Carol was standing in the hall, leaning against the wall. Her eyes were fixed on Stephanie's door. I approached cautiously and was about to say something. Carol lifted a finger to her lips, silencing me. I stood, and listened.

The sounds were faint but unmistakable. I knew them well enough. The breathing. The creak of the bedsprings. The occasional squeak.

Carol's face was helpless. Her eyes seemed to plead with me. I took her hand to lead her away. She pulled me back.

Part of me was surprised. Perhaps shocked. I met her gaze with a question writ large on my face. _Just what are you thinking, love of my life? Whatever it is, it's okay... but... what?_

She swallowed. Trembled. Her hand pulled at mine. Took mine. Took mine to her tummy, and then pushed lower, her hand on top of mine, on top of her jeans, on top of her sex. I felt heat through the thick fabric.

Her chin fell, her face and neck crimson. I lifted her chin with my free hand and kissed her. She allowed it at first, eyes blinking wet. Then she returned it. Eyes clenched tight, as though she was hiding. Her fingers at her pants. I felt them loosen. I heard the zipper. Her hand on mine again. An urgent push, shoving my fingers into her underpants. Molten wetness met me there.

Her body's confession. I'd guessed. I'd wondered. I'd feared. I hadn't dared imagine. Now I knew.

I pressed her against the wall with my body and worked my fingers, my mouth consuming her, her breath and her sound. When she shuddered, her knees went weak and I was holding her up, her mons in the cup of my hand. She broke the kiss and gasped, eyes still closed.

It was just this for a long moment, holding her as she steadied. When her eyes opened, they cast down again. I tried to lift her chin and she shook her head.

"I... wanted you to know. I n-needed you... to know." Barely a whisper.

I raised her chin more insistently and she relented. I kissed her cheek. Looked at the door. This was not the place to have a conversation. She pulled up her pants and wiped her eyes.

Just in time, as it turned out. Stephanie's door opened. Her eyes got wide. Her face was flushed.

"Ummmmm. What are you guys doing?"

I tried. "Nothing, sweetheart. Just... came to tell you that dinner's almost ready."

She wasn't buying it. She stared daggers at me in particular. Carol managed a weak smile and fled to the kitchen.

"Daddy..."

I touched Stephanie's cheek. With my left hand. It wasn't wet. An utterly obscene thought struck me. For Stephanie, the smell of her own sex was masking the deeper aroma of her mother's. Both hung in the air in a perverse miasma, a dizzying pornographic haze.

"Steph. It's okay. I promise." Not that it was okay, just then. But I thought maybe it would be, sometime.

It took her some time to finally nod. I mustered my best everything-is-normal face. Back to being just Daddy. Thankfully, she was willing to play along.

"Get your sister and wash up for dinner, please."

I watched her bottom as she paced down the hall towards Caroline's room. _Just Daddy. Haha. Fuck._

#### Chapter XXXV (Rick)

Dinner was awkwardly delicious. Unnaturally quiet, like we all wanted to get back to what we'd been doing just before.

Carol can cook when she puts her mind to it. She hadn't had much chance lately, but Sunday dinners were usually hers. Like everything she does, she does it intensely. This is one of the very many reasons that I love her desperately.

I understood that what I said and did next mattered. She'd said what she needed to say, with her actions. The ball was in my court.

We left the dishes and sent the girls to watch tv. Sat on the edge of our bed. It was like a first date, almost. A time of uncertainty and discovery, feelings rushing and words hard to come by.

"We don't control our feelings, Carol. We only control what we do about them."

 _Oh ya. Control. Like, molesting your daughter in a parking lot._ I hoped that the intense irony of my words didn't show.

"I can't control anything, Rick. Seems like I don't want to. I'm fucking terrified right now."

"Not of me, I hope."

She raised her eyes and studied me. Traced my features. Reached out and touched my hair.

"No. Not of you. But how can that be?"

"Because I know you."

"Do you?"

"A little better each day."

"Maybe a lot better, lately. I didn't know either. I didn't know and I wouldn't let myself know. I'm so ashamed."

"I'm proud of you, actually."

She looked stunned. "How can that be?"

"Because you've given yourself to me, in total, and shared everything. Because not sharing was unthinkable. It's astonishing."

This was completely honest on my part. It was beyond me, her willingness to be open. Needless to say, I wasn't there. I could not be reciprocal. This conversation was not going to get to, 'Oh ya, and Stephanie strips naked and jerks me off as soon as you go to work, so we're even.'

She blinked, her eyes wet again. "I'm at your mercy, Rick."

I swallowed. "We all deserve mercy."

Even in her distress, her brain was working.

"What do you deserve mercy for?" Her elegant fingers at my face.

I navigated carefully. Dangerous waters.

"When I saw her. Caroline. Watching the movie."

My wife nodded. Studying me.

"It wasn't... perverse, to me. It was just her. Finding herself, finding comfort." This had the benefit of being true.

"Yes. But it... affects me. It shouldn't. Should it?"

"I don't know, honestly. It's not in our control, what affects us. And you affect me. Profoundly. Irresistibly. Relentlessly."

She shook her head. I pressed on.

"Where's the harm, Carol? If you thought it was harmful, it wouldn't happen. I know this to be true."

I did know this, without any doubt. I also knew there was a question unasked. She chose not to ask it, not then.

Instead she said, "Please keep me, Rick."

It went through me like a spear. "There's no choice in this for me, Carol. I completely need you. I've never loved you more."

"I don't know how that can be. But for now, it's enough."

Her arms around my waist. I held her to my chest. Surprisingly, her hand at my belt. Slow but insistent. Unbuckling and opening and unzipping and tugging. I lifted to allow it. She slid to the floor and took me into her mouth. I pushed her hair back to watch her face. She was focused on what she was doing, eyes closed. I kissed her forehead. She was relentless. I gasped as her tongue dug into the cleft of my cock, just behind the head. Her hand at my root, the other below, tugging and squeezing.

As my climax approached, I leaned back, my hands on the bed, lost in the demands of her mouth.

I opened my eyes.

We always closed the door. Always.

The door wasn't closed. Or unoccupied.

Stephanie. In the door frame. Her eyes wide. I grunted. Shook my head. She didn't move. My eyes closed, hips lifted. I clutched at the sheets. Opened my eyes just in time to see Stephanie turn and run.

#### Chapter XXXVI (Rick)

Monday morning. I blinked. My vision slowly focused on the clock. Seven fifteen on the dot. I was now apparently conditioned to wake up at this precise time. I hadn't heard anything, or felt anything. Not anything physical, anyway. Perhaps just a presence. Perhaps just a breath. Perhaps just a pair of soft, brown, almost-nine-year-old eyes.

Tshirt. Legs beneath. Legs too long, but then not. Perfect, actually. Stephanie's face. Also perfect, but anxious.

I smiled. She chewed her lip. I knew what she'd seen and could only imagine what she was thinking. I didn't let myself imagine some of what she might be thinking. I throbbed anyway. My lizard brain was awake too.

"I don't know what to do," she said.

I melted.

"Stephanie. Precious. You don't have to do anything. Not ever. You just have to be. That will always, always be enough."

Her features relaxed a bit. I pulled back the sheet and patted the bed. She climbed up. I covered us, her back to my front, my arms around her tiny frame, across the plane of her chest and tummy. _Fuck. The smell of her hair._

She was uneasy in my arms, restless. I just held on. Finally, "I don't want to hate Mommy."

 _Oh God._ In retrospect, it wasn't surprising that I'd utterly misinterpreted what she was wrestling with. The real trauma of last night for her wasn't the shock of witnessing her parents engaged in oral sex. She was forced to confront a relationship that her mother had with me that she didn't.

"Why would you, princess? How could you?"

Of course this was exactly the wrong thing to say. She was already wracked with guilt about her feelings. I exacerbated.

"I knowwwwwwwww. Daddy. I know. It's awful. I hate it. I can't help it."

I kissed her hair. Smelled it again. I can't help it.

"What do you hate, kitten? Think about it. Tell me."

This was better. Her body quieted.

"I hate that she went back to work and left us."

"So you miss her."

She nodded. I pressed on. "But that's not all of it, is it?"

She shook her head. I felt her breath catch. A sniffle. "She doesn't... love you... like I do."

I was in a love affair with my daughter. Honestly, until she said it, I hadn't absorbed this fact.

One builds barriers around dangerous and frightening things. I wasn't cheating on Carol with Stephanie. This was all just a somewhat innocent exploration. Okay, less innocent lately. But still, within bounds of what one might explain... Ya. So. All of that is bullshit. I was heart and soul and body in love with Stephanie in ways that a father shouldn't be. Apparently the feelings were mutual. Duh.

Carol had said she was terrified. In that moment I joined the club.

But here was my daughter, my perfect, compelling girl, irrefutably in my bed and in my arms.

_Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments._

"It can't be a contest, Stephanie. We can't let it be. Because I need you, completely. And we all need your mother, completely. Do you see that, sweetheart?"

"Sometimes I see it, Daddy. Sometimes I just see... your door. And she's in there. With you. And I'm not."

"I know about doors. I look at yours, too."

"But I'm alone in my room, Daddy. All alone."

I pressed her to my chest. Her breath was ragged. Another sniffle. In a tremble of a voice, "She'd hate me if she knew."

"I don't think your mother could ever hate you. It's just not something that can be."

It seemingly didn't occur to Stephanie that her mother would probably direct her hate at me.

"Do you love me, Daddy? That way? Do you love me that way?"

"How could I not, Stephanie?"

I could argue that I'd never touched her sexually. I could say that we'd just watched each other. Been in the same room. The Family Changing Room. It's what you do there. You change clothes. You're a family. It's the most natural thing there is. Anybody who says different must have a dirty mind. How could you assume that just because we change clothes together that there's something else. She's curious. She had questions. I answered them. Maybe I let things happen, but only because she's curious...

While I was thinking all this nonsense, my hand was between her legs. I don't remember putting it there. Yet there it was.

She wasn't wearing underpants. When I realized what was happening, my only thought was... softness. It's the softest thing in the world, my daughter's sex. And warm. And perfect.

She parted her legs. An invitation. Her small hand on top of mine. On top of her. She pressed me into her bareness with the barest of sighs. An insistence.

_But bears it out even to the edge of doom._

My fingers worked slowly. I learned her, that morning. I'd watched, but now I felt. How her body responded. Smallness. Nothing huge. No grunting and moaning. Breath and gasps and squeaks. Her small round face turned to me, cheeks like apples. To the edge and back, once. And once more, almost. Her bottom in my lap, its every inflection fueling my insanity. Then her miniscule nub between my thumb and finger, rolling to and fro, and her face, her lithe frame, taut with pleasure. I kissed her lips like a lover, the deepest depravity. A shudder rolled through her. My fingers slipping in slick softness. Soft scent. Scented hair. And not just.

Then quiet. Entwined. Melted. Delicious. Gooey grilled cheese with tomato.

"You do, Daddy. You really do."

"Yes, Stephanie. I love you. That way."

Her impish grin. Perhaps a victory smile. "No, Daddy. I mean you know about girls."

I wondered for a moment what she meant. Then I remembered. She hadn't thought to ask me how girls did it. She'd gone to her mother with her questions about sex with yourself. I chuckled despite my terror.

There were noises from the kitchen. A new source of terror. Caroline was up and potentially trying to make breakfast. One last deep breath. Stephanie's hair. Stephanie's gentle aroma from beneath the covers.

"We're late, pumpkin. Let's stop your sister from burning down the house."

#### Chapter XXXVII (Carol)

I'm not submissive. Not hardly. When other women started talking breathlessly about Christian Grey, I read the book. Then I read parts of it out loud to Rick. We laughed until we cried. Needless to say, we didn't waste any money on the movies.

Rather, I've always thought of myself as shameless. Unafraid to say to my husband, I need your cock. I need it inside of me. I need it now, and often. I love how it feels in my mouth, when it swells and tenses, the moment before the storm. There are empty places where Rick belongs, in every way that can mean. There's nothing weak about that. It's just honest, and safe, because I know that he needs me too. I feel it in his touch, in his hunger.

Shame was an unfamiliar and uncomfortable mantel for me to wear. So, I shed it. I let my husband know that I was sexually aroused by my daughters. Watching Caroline masturbate, her lips at my breast. Outside Stephanie's door, her sounds. Almost nine. Going on 20. Terrifying. And impossible to ignore. Part of us now. We can't control our feelings, only what we do about them. And not even that.

My lawyerly mind is relentless sometimes. In this case, it forbade me from believing that the truth wouldn't come out. It was inevitable that Rick would know. Better to plead than to be found guilty. I stood at Stephanie's door and pleaded for mercy.

And mercy was granted. I didn't want it to be gentle, and it wasn't. I was pinned to the wall by Rick's hand when I came or I would have collapsed.

Somewhere inside I knew that this was too easy. Something in me wanted him to be shocked, repulsed, disgusted. That he wasn't was both a relief and a puzzle. But I wasn't done judging myself. How could I judge Rick, my angel of mercy? I went to my knees at his feet, a supplicant. I drank his acceptance, consumed his warmth, filled my lungs with his familiar musk. I would have stayed there forever if he'd wanted, an eternal penance of fellatio.

I slept much more soundly than I should have. I kissed Rick's unfurrowed brow as I left for work in the morning. Could everything be okay? In the morning, it often seems more likely. In that moment, I was even able to convince myself that I hadn't really heard, the night before, a child's footsteps running away from our bedroom at the moment my husband flooded my mouth with his forgiveness.

**************************

I had to call later that day to say that I wouldn't be home until very late.

"The timing sucks, Rick. But I have to make this court appearance."

"I understand, Carol. You know I always will."

I was quiet for a moment. Rick relieved the silence.

"Do you have what you need? Should I pack a bag and bring it to you?"

"I'm not staying the night. I'll just get home at oh-dark-thirty. I... don't want to be away from you right now."

"I'm not going anywhere. I'll be here when you get home. I promise. We'll miss you. Call me from the train."

It's unlike me to choke up because I was going to miss dinner with my family, but I did. Was I changed somehow? Or just figuring out something that's been true all along, something about the consequences of choices. They all seemed rational, my choices. Explicable, at least. Until recently I'd always been happy to live with the consequences.

"I love you, Rick." I heard the strain bleed through into my voice.

"I know."

I laughed. Bless him. "Fuck you, Han Solo."

His gentle chuckle. "There's my girl."

I didn't want to hang up. My need stirred obscenity. I glanced up, just to be sure that my office door was closed. "I loved sucking your cock last night. I loved you, in my mouth. Filling my mouth."

He cleared his throat. "Errmmm. Feel free to wake me up when you get home. Whatever oh-dark-whatever it is."

"You're my only hope, you know."

"I love you too, Carol. Knock'em dead, or whatever you're trying to do to them."

I held the phone for a good minute after he'd gone.

#### Chapter XXXVIII (Rick)

You know how it goes in the movies. Love triangles get resolved. A guy has these two girls that like him. One is the obvious one, the girl everybody would expect him to be with. Then there's the not-obvious girl. The one that he should really be with, the true love of his heart. Think Jerry Maguire. At first he doesn't realize the truth of the true love. Circumstances conspire. Inevitably the girls encounter each other. Awkwardness and confusion and hijinks ensue. In the end, he realizes the error of his ways. He rushes into the arms of the one true love. He had her at hello. We knew all along but we cry anyway.

Our story wasn't likely to resemble one of those movies. I had to find a way to end up with both girls. It would be too easy to wind up with neither, driving aimlessly on the streets of Ramsdale. Humbert is not my role model.

After Carol called, I picked the girls up from school. A normal afternoon. We ordered pizza. Had to get three different ones to make everybody happy. Hawaiian among them, of course. There were leftovers. Carol would sigh at the lack of balanced nutrition. I would say that pineapple is fruit.

Stephanie and I watched each other. Her scent still lingered faintly on my hand. Between her morning visit and Carol's unexpected provocation on the phone, I was chronically stiff. Stephanie seemed to know this and was visibly gloating. If there had been any doubt, it was erased when her mischievous little hand groped me under the kitchen table, tracing and squeezing the hardness that extended down the leg of my pants.

My daughter was exploring a new sense of power. I can see how it would be irresistible for a child. For your entire life, you've been at the mercy and command of adults, of parents and teachers and bus drivers and lifeguards. But suddenly there's something about you... who you are, what you do... that makes an adult see you in a different way. Lets you affect them and changes how they treat you. Gives you a voice in your life for the first time. That this experience can get a bit out of control isn't surprising.

I wasn't helping with the control thing. I covered her hand with mine when she started to fondle me. I fully intended to fend her off, gently but firmly. She persisted. Smiled at me in mock innocence with a mouthful of cheese and ham and pineapple. I relented, let my fingers rest on hers as they moved, my hand a tactile voyeur to the molestation. Victory was hers.

There was relative calm and sanity after dinner. The girls did their homework together, Stephanie for once being helpful. Her relationship with me seemed to diffuse her competition with her sister. "Put it in your backpack now so you don't forget it in the morning," said my eldest to my youngest. It could have been Carol talking.

I offered a movie. Anything but "Frozen." I wasn't sure I could handle the girls singing "Let It Go" at the top of their lungs just now. We went with "Brave," which reminded me that I should buy stock in Disney. We'd already contributed enough to their corporate earnings to deserve a seat on the Board. There was a time in my life when the last six movies I'd seen were The Lion King.

I sent the girls to get ready for bed. They'd found a way to share the sink and brush their teeth at the same time, a small domestic miracle. I dressed down to sweatpants and poured some goldfish crackers into a bowl. My aspirations as a homemaker are modest. Martha Stewart is not my role model either.

Caroline padded into the living room in her usual knee-length sleeper. It wasn't as long as it used to be. Children frustratingly refuse to remain stuck in time. Just when you think you've gotten to know them, they're different. Stephanie appeared in a much shorter tshirt, which I recognized as one of mine. She claimed shotgun and plopped herself next to me on the couch. Caroline took her mother's usual spot on the attached chaise with a smirk, shamelessly exploiting Carol's absence.

I raised my eyebrows at Stephanie.

"What?" She knew my face well.

"You've been pilfering my drawers." The double-entendre struck me only after I'd said it. I wish I was that clever.

Her expression was sheepish and therefore irresistible. "It smells like you, Daddy."

_Fuck._

Our movie blanket is big enough to cover the whole couch, an emblem of family togetherness. Stephanie arranged it over our three laps. Caroline was sitting perpendicular on the L-shaped extension and pulled the corner to her mouth, thus exposing her bare toes. She chewed the corner thoughtfully, considered the merits of this compromise and decided that it was okay.

Merida is the only Disney princess who doesn't end up with a Prince. I've always appreciated the movie for this, and hoped that my daughters would grow up to be fiercely independent, unafraid to make their own choices. I felt Stephanie's hand slip into my lap under the blanket. Be careful what you ask for, I thought.

Stephanie put her feet up onto the couch, making a tent with her knees. Her hand moved subtly, seeking. And finding. And holding, gently through the soft cotton of my sweats. I stiffened. She watched my face and was rewarded with my expression of utter helplessness. I glanced at Caroline. She was absorbed in the movie. Her thumb had joined the corner of the blanket in her mouth. I did not correct her. Instead I turned off the lamp, the only light in the room besides the flickering of the screen. We were reduced to silhouettes, two-dimensional shadows of ourselves.

I could still see Stephanie's face. She met my eyes as her hand moved up to my waist, and then back down. Inside. Seeking finding holding. Her look was unmistakable. _This is mine,_ it said.

I claimed her too, my hand seeking finding holding. Knees parted. No underpants, no longer a surprise. Softness. Warmth. Inside, a thin slickness. I probed below the delicate petals and found the inner cleft. Impossibly small. I worked at it nonetheless, stretching in small circles until the folds held me to the first knuckle. Her eyes closed. My thumb brushed over the tiny bump and my finger wormed deeper... so so so careful... back a little then forward, ever millimeter resisted by the tight embrace of her nascent sex. A slight noise... my finger at her inner gate. Not to be passed, only approached with each rhythmic penetration.

The sound of the phone was jarring. I startled... disengaged from Stephanie and reached for it, her scent wafting along with my hand. I could hear from the background noise that Carol was on the train.

"Hi sweetheart. On your way home, I hope. How did it go?"

Stephanie watched me. Her hand did not disengage.

"Of course you did. Because you're the best."

Slender fingers tugging. Squeezing. I tried to hide the hoarseness of my voice.

"We're watching Brave. All quiet on the home front."

I leaked. Stephanie smirked and spread it over me with her thumb.

"Pizza. I knowwwwwww. It was good though."

Relentless mauling from her diminutive hand.

"I'll see you then.... I love you too... we all miss you..."

I put the phone down. Cast my eyes to my eldest daughter. Her face was resolute, determined. Merida was besting all of the would-be suitors, claiming her hand for herself. Unthinkable heresy. My gaze wandered to the other end of the couch. Caroline looked sleepy, her eyes half closed. She rarely made it though an entire full-length feature. Her own little knee-tent under the blanket. Her bare feet tiny, sticking out from under. And something else there? I squinted.

Her underpants, bunched around her ankles.

I soaked myself and Stephanie's hand, barely stifling the deep guttural sound that tried to escape my mouth.

We stayed that way for some time. I had no words. The scary part with the big evil bear. Stephanie was restless. I kissed her hair and was finally able to whisper. "Bedtime, sweetpea." She did her best to wipe her fingers on the inside of my sweats and slid out from under the blanket. I heard her in the bathroom, washing her hands.

Caroline was asleep. I pulled the blanket aside to find her sleeper up around her waist and her hand... there... holding... still. I moved it gently. Her mons almost featureless but glowing pink in the light of the TV. For the briefest moment, I imagined Carol's hand there. Unwillingly but needfully blinked the image away. Lifted my daughter's short legs and slid her panties back into place at her hips as her eyes opened a little. Gathered her up with care. "Noooooo Daddy I want to see the eeennnnnddd..." A soft whine, her face buried in my shirt on our way to her room. I tucked her in and kissed her forehead.

Stephanie had her covers up around her chin when I came to her room. Sheepish again.

"Was that weird, Daddy? Was that... bad?"

_Yes and no and no and yes and yes and yes and no and no._

I kissed her forehead. "I love you, Stephanie."

"I love you too, Daddy."

I got into the shower with my sweatpants on and let them thoroughly soak, then stripped them off and wrung them out. Scrubbed my hands. Got out and threw the sweats into the drier along with some other clothes. My brain was working, at least a little.

I tried to stay awake until Carol got home. Closed my eyes, just for a moment. Next I knew, she was slipping into bed beside me. I think she was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

#### Chapter XXXIX (Rick)

Carol slept in the next morning. I got the girls off to school and brought her coffee in bed. She seemed relaxed when I left for my day. I let myself imagine our family life as long stretches of blissful normalcy, punctuated by episodes of... the other, somehow woven together in a perverse but harmonious tapestry.

Ha ha ha.

In the afternoon I picked the girls up and headed home. Carol was still there, working from her desk in the extra room we shared as an office. I put my arms around her from behind. She was tense. I sat in the other chair.

"What's up?" I ventured.

"I got a call from Andrea's mother."

"Oh." Stephanie's altered shorts were in her lap. I felt blood drain from my face. She read my expression.

"So you knew."

I just nodded, but immediately sensed that this minimal response wasn't going to cut it. "I should have told you. Just... with everything going on..."

Carol looked down. That had been cruel on my part. I'd implied that I couldn't tell her because it would just be more evidence of her failures as a mother.

"She said that Stephanie left with you, wearing these." She held up the shorts, the legs nonexistent, the hems ragged from amateur scissoring.

I nodded again. Less said the better, was my thinking.

"She didn't have them on when you got home."

"I told her it was unacceptable, Carol. I made her change."

"In the car?"

"Yes. I went to an empty parking lot. Nobody saw anything."

She was silent for a time. Clearly angry, but also sad.

"Nobody but you," she said. Dangerously quiet, with a subtle edge.

"Carol." With effort, I held my voice steady. I met her gaze.

"We don't hide things from each other, Rick. You know... you know... the things I h-haven't hidden... from you." Her eyes were wet.

I thought about reminding her how I'd found out about her interactions with Caroline. She hadn't told me, at first. I chose not to go there, not now. "I do know. I do. I'm sorry. I should have told you. I knew it would upset you." True enough, that.

Her breath seemed to ease a little.

"According to Andrea, it's about some boy."

My breath eased as well. Carol sounded skeptical, but only slightly.

"Nine going on sixteen," I offered.

"Not even nine. Not even."

I reached for her cheek. She let me touch it. "You'll talk to her, I guess? I tried. But I've never been a girl not-even-nine."

She swallowed and nodded. I took her hand in mine. She let me.

"How old were we? The first time we held hands," I asked, as gently as I could.

"You know how old we were. You were 12. I was 10."

"Did you love me, even then?"

She smiled a little, eyes still shiny. "You know that too. You know that I did. And every day since. But I never cut up my shorts for you." The edge was gone from her voice.

"I wouldn't have known what to do if you had."

"Liar."

I leaned in and kissed her. She let me.

#### Chapter XL (Carol)

How many women can say that their first love was their forever love? Not many, I know. Rick and I were a lifelong story and I felt blessed by it. He filled my eyes and my brain and my heart and my diary from fifth grade on. We broke up twice in high school, each of us at different times thinking that there just had to be more to explore. But neither of us ever found anyone else with whom we could be completely at ease. It was like breathing, being with him.

Our first time was so like us. We were both naive, awkwardly making out and petting with increasing urgency but constrained by shyness and the warning voices of adults echoing in our heads. Between these trepidations and our brief separations, we found ourselves virgins on his seventeenth birthday. With his graduation looming and the uncertainty that implied, we both had an uneasy sense of impending loss.

The night of his birthday we were sitting on his bed in his room. His parents were used to us being together and there was some sense of trust, or a notion that we were good for each other. We were. I gave him a goofy card and I kissed him and we talked about what was going to happen about school and at some point he just said, "I really want to have sex with you." It was abrupt and simple and I could tell he was nervous but to me it came across as charming. My lens when looking at him has always been liberally coated with vaseline.

My words came without thinking. "Me too." Just that. I blushed only after I'd said it.

And so like him, he said, "Do you know how?"

And so like me, I said, "Are you asking because you don't know, or because you think I don't?"

He laughed. "I think I know."

I said, "I think I do too." The way we'd said these things made us sure that it was the first time for both of us. The act itself was further evidence. It was sweet and tender and awkward and for me, pretty painful. But never in any way regretted. My clearest memory from that night is holding his cock for the first time, feeling his heartbeat in it, the intensity of his hardness, all because of me. It entranced me then and has ever since.

These thoughts ran through me like a current. I knew very well how intensely a young girl can love, how utterly consuming it can be. I knew that times are different now, that girls know much more than we did at their age. That sex is everywhere and the physical and emotional are chronically conflated, that there are thongs designed for ten-year-olds.

I was angry when I knew I shouldn't be. I was confused when I knew I was confusing myself. I was disappointed in Rick for concealing this from me. I wanted to be angry with him. I tried it on, but it didn't fit. For Stephanie, I had fear. It's just too soon. Her first love can't be like mine, my forever love. The world isn't full of Ricks. And I wouldn't let her be that way, yearning for his attention to the abandonment of her modesty and self-esteem. It wasn't like she had unsupervised time where anything could really happen. Not yet, anyway. It was just heartbreaking to think of her losing herself that way.

Her door was open. I stepped in. She looked up from her book and quickly read my face. "What?" As though I was going to yell at her again for not picking up her clothes.

I sat on the edge of her bed and laid the shorts out between us. Her eyes darted over them and then away. "So?"

"Nice try, Stephanie. We need to talk about this."

"So I cut them. So what? You can take it out of my allowance. It was Andrea's idea. It was just... goofing around..."

Had I let her continue, the string of excuses would have run on. I touched her cheek. "Stephanie. I know. I know about the boy. Don't lie to me. It hurts me very badly when you lie to me."

She swallowed, her face reddening. "I just made him up. I hate boys. Andrea said it would be funny..."

"I was ten when I fell in love with your father."

She looked at me, really looked, for the first time in a while. Blinked. I pulled her into my lap and held her, my arms over her chest, my cheek against her hair. She stiffened for a moment, but she allowed it.

"Tell me about him," I said.

"I don't want to."

"But you do want to show him your butt, apparently."

Mistake. She tensed and squirmed. I retreated.

"Sorry. It's just... if he's the type of boy that's going to like you because of that... well... you deserve better, sweetpea."

"Daddy doesn't like your butt?"

Gaahhhh. "He doesn't like me because of it. Or only because of it. Or mostly. Because of it."

"But it's okay for him to like it. Like yours. Or like mine. For somebody to... like mine."

"Yes, it's okay. But that's not the point." I paused to regroup. "Stephanie, please. This is about what's most important, which is who you are. You're smart and kind and clever and funny and any boy would be lucky for you to look twice at them. Your butt should be the last thing you or him worry about." _Especially at your age, not-even-nine._ I wanted to say it, but stopped myself.

"Maybe I want him to look twice at me." After a moment, "I like it... when he looks at me."

Of course she did. I'd wanted that too. I wondered for a moment if the reason I'd never cut my shorts for Rick was because I'd never thought of it.

"Is he nice? Is he smart? Is he a bully? Does he like the same things you do? What do you talk about?"

A tiny tremble. Her voice caught. "The nicest. The smartest. And no, not ever. And all the things. And everything." Her heart speaking. I could hear it. Mine melted. I hugged her to my chest.

"He sounds like a fine boy. How old is he?"

She hesitated. "Older."

"Daddy was twelve when I was ten."

She nodded. I pressed on. "How old, love bug? I'd like to meet him, if he's going to be your friend."

She shook her head. I relented. "I know. I'd embarrass you."

She seemed relieved. I'd hoped for a contradiction, but none was forthcoming. Just a sniffle. I kissed her hair.

"Your body isn't you. It's just the costume that you wear. Share yourself only with people that care about you, that know how to treasure what you share and how to return your feelings. I was the luckiest girl ever, to find your father when I did. I never had to show him my body to know that he loved me too. When things like that did happen, it was all the more special."

"Maybe I'm lucky too."

"Maybe, sweetheart. Maybe. But be sure."

She was quiet for a long moment. "I'm sorry that I cut up my shorts, Mommy."

"Forgiven, Stephanie. You can talk to me about these things, you know. I know about boys."

Scrunchy face. I sighed. "No more secrets, okay?"

She chewed her lip. I raised my eyebrows. "Stephanie?"

"I cut up my top too."

I just held her for a long time.

#### Chapter XLI (Rick)

"Sex is weird," said my newly-nine-year-old daughter.

A few weeks had passed, and Stephanie was now officially not-eight-anymore. Her birthday party had been small and closely supervised. Carol wasn't keen on our eldest spending much time with Andrea, who had been deemed a Bad Influence. There were no boys invited. Our family life had settled into something resembling normalcy, if you didn't count the occasional intergenerational fondling.

Carol was trying to stay home more. Mornings were family time again, with Mommy wrangling breakfast and me wrangling the girls. Weekends were busy too, with multiple soccer games but also quiet time together at home. Carol was fiercely determined that we were going to keep close, and I loved her dearly for it.

Not to say that there weren't tradeoffs. I still woke up automatically at seven-fifteen, my internal alarm clock tuned sharply to this time. Days started with a moment of uncertainty about what my fluttering eyes might behold. It was never disappointing. I was alone, or not. If I was alone, someone was in the kitchen cooking. If I wasn't alone, my beloved wife was by my side. Or my astonishing newly-nine was there, by my front. As I saw it, win-win-win.

I was intensely careful with Stephanie. Not that I didn't want her. Small samples led to intense hunger. My mental and moral barriers were being worn away or just simply trampled, contained only by fear. Limited time alone with her was a good thing as my mind ran wild with imaginings. When we were together, I let her take the lead, have her way, never pushing, always listening.

I was afraid of two things. The obvious was what would happen if things became known. I knew better than to equate the Stephanie situation with the gentle dalliance of Caroline and Carol. My wife would understand the difference as clearly as I did. _The better part of valor is discretion; in the which better part I have saved my life._

My other concern was the possible affect on my eldest daughter. Don't girls come to resent these things at some point? Those are the ones you read about, anyway. I wondered whether there was some silent population of girls who saw a physical relationship with their father as just an extension of their love. Despite Stephanie's very evident enthusiasm, was I fucking her up forever by letting it play out? My restraint was my excuse. She was making the choices. I was just allowing it. She surely couldn't blame me for that.

 _Hope is not a strategy. Fear is not an option._ All I had was hope. Fear was unavoidable. My mind's annoying insistence on finding the right pithy quote for any occasion wasn't helping.

There was another question that I had so far nimbly avoided through elaborate intellectual dodgeball: When exactly did I become a pedophile? I didn't think of myself as one, even now. I was oddly free of self-loathing. I've always thought that girls are exquisite creatures, fascinating in any number of ways, but I don't recall ever reacting to a preteen the way I had to Stephanie in the Family Changing Room.

The answer came to me as I was holding Carol's hand, in our office, talking about how Stephanie had cut up her shorts. I'd asked her how old we were, when we'd first held hands. I was twelve. She was ten. When I looked at our daughter, I also saw Carol at that age. My feelings for Stephanie were, in some part at least, a recollection, an impossibly compelling echo. I've been in love with a little girl all of my life, and I have come unstuck in time. _Poo-tee-weet._

So perhaps I wasn't a pervert in the traditional sense. I was responding to the manifestation of my first pubescent crush, reliving the feelings I had when I was not even a teenager myself. It was comforting to think this way. I did not, for example, find myself unduly lusting after the other birthday guests. They were variously cute and charmingly unaffected and full of whispers and giggles. There were tiny, lovely bottoms, but I've always been an ogler of bottoms independently of age.

"You're right, sweetpea. Sex is pretty weird."

Stephanie was holding my penis in her miniature hand, studying it with eyes and fingers. I was exquisitely stiff. She slowly traced the veins as we chatted.

"Did God make it up?"

"Hmmm. Good question. I'm not sure, kitten. What do you think?"

"I think maybe He was making a joke."

I chuckled. It was a drizzly Saturday afternoon. Carol was at Caroline's soccer game. I'd taken Stephanie to her earlier game. When we'd gotten home she followed me into the bedroom and flopped on her tummy on the bed. Soccer shorts and shirt, tall socks up to her knees, the muddy cleats dutifully left on the porch. Her face was charmingly smudged, her hair a jumble from the wind. I laid beside her and tried to untangle the mess with my fingers. _I want to see it, Daddy._ Just like that. Casual comfort and confidence in her voice. This was our normal now, however perverse. I had obliged and pushed my shorts down.

"Even the names are weird. Peeeeenis." She giggled, her face flushed pink, more embarrassed by the word than the artifact.

"In Latin, it means 'tail.'" Etymology came to me automatically. I am nothing if not a pedagogue.

She rolled her eyes. "Will that be on the test, Daddy? Kinda makes sense though... it's just on the wrong side."

"Sorry. You know I can't stop myself."

"What does Mommy call it?"

Stephanie steadfastly refused to let me compartmentalize. Things were so much simpler when we could just keep them all neatly separate, each in their own place and time, dots never connecting. My daughter had no concept of such barriers.

I leaked. She took this as her cue to masturbate me more intently, small hand gripping. She was learning me, and schooling me. I swallowed hard. "I'm not sure that it's... good for us to talk about that."

She stuck out her lower lip defensively. "I'm not mad about it anymore, Daddy. I know you love me and her."

"I do. I do and do, kitten. I need you both, completely."

Her hand was steady, relentless.

"I saw what she was doing, that time."

Throbbing. Leakage. "I know."

"I don't want to do that. It's weird."

"You don't ever have to do anything that you don't want to do, Stephanie. You know that, right? I'll never love you any less. I couldn't." This time we were talking about the same thing.

She nodded and bit her lip. Soft sticky noises as my wetness spread under her fingers.

"I liked it, in the car. That time. You know? It was scary... but I kinda liked it."

"I didn't mean to scare you, princess. I'm sorry that I did."

"You looked at me twice."

"Hmmm?"

"Something Mommy said, about looking at somebody twice. I liked when you looked."

I wasn't sure if I should be reassured or frightened that she and her mother were talking about such things. At that moment, I couldn't care. My words tumbled out. "Sweetheart. Take off your shorts."

A tiny grin as she shed them in one motion and kicked them to the foot of the bed, over- and under-pants twisted together in a tangle. Shirt and socks remained with nothing in between. Nothing but her smooth perfection. Her hand, back to work. I grunted and soaked us immediately. She held me, watching with satisfaction as I emptied and then slowly softened. I pulled her head to my chest and kissed the grass-scented meadow of her hair. She tilted her face up and her lips met mine for a blissful moment.

"You didn't answer me, Daddy."

"I don't think I should teach you dirty words, Stephanie."

"Mommy uses dirty words?"

 _Fuck._ "I guess they're not really dirty when you're with somebody you love."

"Then you can tell me."

I sighed. Relentless. "Cock, Stephanie. Sometimes she says cock."

She made a face. "That's nasty. I'm not gonna say that."

"Good."

"Maybe I'll say _tail_. Even if it's on the wrong side."

"Okay." I'm ashamed to say that I was proud she'd absorbed the language lesson.

"We're a mess, Daddy."

I had to choke back a laugh that would have frightened her. Truer words were never spoken.

"I can't help it, sweetpea. Weird, right?"

"Ya."

She led me by the tail to the shower.

#### Chapter XLII (Carol)

I was seeking balance. I've always understood the need for this intellectually, but now I was feeling it, deep in my heart and my gut. Live to work or work to live. I wanted to be defined, to come into sharper focus. Being everything sometimes felt like being nothing. So I drew some lines. I'd be home in the morning, and for dinner. I'd be present when I was there. I'd turn off my phone, which felt like undergoing a lobotomy, severing the connection to my other half. With some practice though, it started to feel good. _Slide to power off._ Hell yes, I will slide.

I also wasn't going to allow our family to be bisected. Rick and Stephanie, Carol and Caroline. We're a circle, not two lines. Lines diverge. We'd stay together, regardless of anything.

Stephanie's creative ensemble-making brought this home for me. She was going to be interested in boys. I hated this, but how could I? Rick reminded me of us, of me. I still had my fifth-grade diary. On re-reading, I cringed. I also recalled the tightness in my tummy, the strange fugue of nascent emotions that can easily overwhelm. _There's this boy in sixth that keeps looking at me. Feels wierd. He dosnt act dumb. Maybe he will talk to me._ Confusion. Butterflies. Hope. Little circles over the letter 'i'.

I took the girls swimming on a Sunday morning. Rick was grading papers. It says a lot about us that I find that sexy. I kissed his neck from behind and left him to it.

We went to the ladies' locker room. Stephanie rolled her eyes only a little. Perhaps being nine gave her a new sense of maturity. As we were changing, a woman approached us. I'd seen her there before. About my age, I thought. She smiled with teeth that were annoyingly white and perfect.

"Hi there. I don't mean to intrude."

You just did, I thought. I'm not one for conversations in a locker room. The girls were in various states of undress. The woman was in a modest one-piece bathing suit, her body lean and athletic. Fortunately I still had my clothes on. _I could look like that if I had the time to swim more. Maybe. If I did._

Stephanie looked up from the bench, her shorts around her ankles. "Oh. Hi," said my daughter.

"Hello Stephanie. It's nice to see you again." I raised my eyebrows. The woman noticed. "I'm sorry. I'm Gale. I'm a swim instructor here. I met Stephanie a few weeks ago when she was here with her father."

"Nice to meet you, Gale. I'm Carol." I wasn't going to encourage chit-chat just then or there. Stephanie seemed unconcerned as she stood and stripped off her panties, apparently cured of her shyness. Caroline had always been the quickest and was already in her suit, scratching herself impatiently.

"I just wanted to say, you have a lovely family. If you have any interest in lessons, I'd be glad to help. An introductory session is included in your club fees." Her eyes were an intense green and remained focused on my face until Stephanie spoke.

"Could we, Mommy? That would be neat." She was wriggling into her suit, which I noticed was now small for her. Gale reached out and touched my daughter's hair. I frowned. She let her hand drop but smiled at me unapologetically.

"Thanks," I said. "We'll think about it. We'd like to come more regularly." My eyes inadvertently traced the muscles in her legs.

Gale's gaze fell back on Stephanie. "Well. Good. I'd love to see more of you."

I didn't respond. Gale's relentless teeth and legs finally left us.

Caroline piped up. "She's nice, Mommy. Can we? Have lessons?"

"Maybe I can help, sweetpea. I'd like to teach you."

She looked skeptical. Stephanie was quiet. We went to the pool and I did my best to get Caroline out of doggy-paddle mode. Gale appeared and joined a small group of children in the shallow end. A class, apparently. Stephanie watched her, practicing some of the things she was teaching.

My reaction to all this surprised me. _Fuck you, Gale. You're not going to get between me and my daughters. Not a chance._ A vehement thought. I knew it was irrational but I couldn't seem to shake it.

When it was time to go, I led our dripping little entourage toward the ladies'. Along the way was the Family Changing Room. Stephanie squeezed my hand as we passed it. I paused. She looked up at me. Caroline did too. We mirrored the sign above the door, a tall person holding the hands of two small people, one on each side. It was us. In we went.

It was like a trip home after a long absence. We shared a comfortable silence. The girls knew the drill better than I, padding into the shower and testing the water with slender fingers. One quick turn under the spray in our suits, then peeling, the three of us together and unashamed. They were... longer, even Caroline, soon-to-be-seven.

I offered an open towel and Stephanie stepped into it. Touching her spurred an odd sense of relief, like the moment after you think you've lost your car keys alone in the night in the rain but then you feel them in the bottom of your bag and the panic fades and you breathe again. I buffed her pale skin to a ruddy glow. She perched her bare bottom on my thigh. I let my hands linger, straightened her hair with my fingers, kissed her shoulder. It was intimate.

I let my eyes close for a moment and I was standing outside of Stephanie's bedroom door, Rick's hand buried inside me, pressing me against the wall as Stephanie's whimpers throbbed in my ears and whetted my sex. I hadn't just been listening, I'd been straining to ingest every sound.

I squeezed Stephanie's knee.

"Are you okay, Mommy?"

My eyes opened. We shared an awkward smile. Heat rose in my cheeks. "Yes, pumpkin." Refuge in a new topic. "Time for a new swimsuit for you, I think."

"Two piece! Mommy. Two piece." She bit her lip hopefully.

I sighed. I didn't feel like fighting. "We'll see, Stephanie. You don't need to show off. You're lovely, you know?"

Her cheeks flushed, matching the rest of her. "Daddy says I'm pretty cuz I look like you."

My turn to blush. "Your father knows just the right thing to say, doesn't he?"

"Ya." Common ground. Rick was that, for all of us.

Caroline waited her turn and I rubbed her down briskly. We all got dressed slowly, planning for lunch.

#### Chapter XLIII (Stephanie)

I guess me and Mommy are okay now. She was mad about the clothes. It was pretty dumb of me. It's not like Daddy doesn't see me naked all the time. It's weird but sometimes wearing only a little feels even more naked than naked. I liked how it made Daddy look twice.

It was neat how Mommy talked about her and Daddy. She thinks I like some stupid boy but maybe she understands how it feels. I wonder if she ever cut up her clothes for him. We went to the pool with her and she took us to the Family Changing Room after and it was really nice. It's like I can talk to her about stuff again. Not everything, but stuff. It made me think how much I missed her and that I didn't want to miss her like that anymore.

Andrea's mom took me and her swimming after school this Wednesday. Mommy doesn't like Andrea so much since the clothes thing but she's my best friend so I promised no scissors and no boys and she said it was okay. Andrea's mom doesn't swim so she went to the gym and we went to change.

Andrea's really shy so she did everything under a towel. I didn't bother with the towel and she was like, I can't believe you did that. I was like, it's no big deal, everybody does it. She said maybe you do but I don't. Whatever.

After when we went to change back she did it under the towel again and bolted out before I was even undressed. I guess she felt weird seeing me naked.

The swimming lady was there. It's like she's always there cuz of teaching. She's got a wicked nice smile.

She said hi and she remembered my name and then, "Are you going to shower?"

I said no since my friend was waiting for me. She said, "Oh, you should always shower after you swim. You need to rinse out your suit so that it doesn't get crusty, and it's important to relax your muscles. I'm going now. Just a quick one, you'll feel better."

She held out her hand. I wasn't sure but she's nice and I didn't want to hurt her feelings so I took her hand and we walked back to where the showers are. They're all these little booths with curtains. It was kinda busy right then. We found an empty one and she said, "After you," and I went in and I was kinda surprised when she came in too. She turned on the water. "It's better to share. We waste less water that way. And it's cozy too, isn't it?"

I said ya. I mean, it was so small that we kept bumping each other. That's sortof cozy.

We rinsed and then she started taking off her suit. I wasn't trying to look but everything was right there. I didn't know what to do. She said, "It's good that you're not shy, Stephanie. You're such a pretty girl, you've got nothing to be shy about. But even so, most girls your age seem to be ashamed of their bodies. You shouldn't ever let anybody make you feel that way."

Her smile was so nice it was like I couldn't look away from it, even when she took my suit down. Her hands are really strong, from all the swimming I guess. She had to tug on it pretty hard to get it off me. "This suit is too small for you. You're a growing girl. Step out, sweetheart." I pushed it off my feet with my toes and then bent over to pick it up. I felt her hand on my butt and when I stood she moved it up to my face. "Such a perfect little lady, you are. I bet you're the apple of your father's eye. Aren't you?" Her voice was just a whisper then. I felt my face get hot. She said, "I thought so. I've seen how you two look at each other. And I've seen you coming out of the Family Changing Room." That made my tummy get tight. "I know how it can be, a girl and her Daddy. It's very special. Special in ways that we don't share, not with anybody. Isn't that right?"

Awks. I didn't say anything. She pushed my hair behind my ears with her fingers. It was like she was looking right through me. More whispers. Her mouth was close to my ear. "Don't worry. You're safe with me. You're a lucky girl, Stephanie."

I think I just said thanks or something. She said, "You'd better go join your friend. I'll stay here for a bit and warm up. The pool sucks the heat right out of me." I got dressed. Andrea was like, what took you so long? I said you're supposed to shower after. She said maybe you do but I don't.

It was scary, what the lady said, like she knew about me and Daddy. I didn't think she'd tell though.

When I got home I ran to my room and stuck my hand in my underpants and did it. I closed my eyes and I saw the swimming lady's smile.

#### Chapter XLIV (Carol)

I felt like I was winning my family back and reclaiming myself in the process. Small steps. Bridging the gap with Stephanie had become something of a quest. As she opened up to me, I saw more and more of myself in her.

The next Saturday I suggested that we switch our usual soccer assignments. I took Stephanie to her game, leaving Rick with Caroline for the day. This was good for them. For all that I love my husband and admire how he is as a father, he needs to be reminded that our precious soon-to-be-seven needs attention more than education. She brings out his unabashed playful side, which is one of the many things I love about him.

It was the rainy season so of course the fields were muddy. Stephanie was pretty well covered in it. I reminded her to leave the cleats on the porch and pointed her at the laundry room. We both stripped to our undies there and tossed the clothes straight into the washer. "Into the shower with you. You're a walking mud puddle."

She giggled and smeared her hands down my front, my tummy a finger-painting canvas. "Thanks for sharing," I said.

And my remarkable daughter took my hand and walked with me down the hall. When we reached the door to the girls' bathroom, she showed no signs of detaching. I gave her a quizzical look.

"Maybe we go together, Mommy. We waste less water that way." I raised my eyebrows a little. She seemed a bit uncertain. "In school they said we're gonna run out of water someday if we don't take care of it."

I couldn't help but smile. I saw her father in her, too. "That's true, love bug. That's a good thing to think about." I pushed her hair back behind her ears.

"Besides, it's... cozy. It was nice... at the pool."

I put my arm around her. "It was very nice, sweetpea." No more needed to be said.

The walk-in shower in the master bath is bigger, so it was the obvious choice. Rick and I shared it on occasion, sometimes for convenience, sometimes just for fun. There were nice memories there. I made the water stinging hot and watched the confluent dirt flow from our bodies, swirling together in the drain. We passed the soap. I washed her hair, using my shampoo. She'd smell like me, she said. Finally we were clean and I was warm, inside and out. As the last suds slipped away, tiny avalanches down her arms, she leaned back against me. I folded my arms over her chest.

"I was afraid, Mommy." Her quiet voice, barely heard over the water.

"What were you afraid of?"

"That you didn't like me anymore."

I squeezed. "You know that's not true, don't you?"

She nodded. "And maybe you like Caroline better."

A deep breath. I needed to respond, not react. "You're both a part of me, Stephanie. Like my arms. I need you both. I hope you know that too."

Another small nod. "Just... you do stuff with her..."

"You're getting bigger, Steph. Maybe she needs Mommy time a little more than you."

She persisted. "Like... baths. You take baths with her."

I kissed her hair. My smell. "I thought you'd say that baths with Mommy are for babies."

She shook her head. "Ya. No. I mean. They are. Just..."

"It's okay, Stephanie. You're allowed to still be little too. You don't have to be all grown up, all at once. And here we are, you and me, all wet."

A small smile. "Cozy." She put her small hand on top of mine, where it rested on her tummy.

After a long moment, her voice was tiny. "Is that where you helped her, Mommy? In the bath?"

 _Fuck. Breathe. Respond. Don't ruin this._ She sensed me stiffen.

"I-I'm sorry, Mommy. I'm sorry. Don't be mad. I just... it made me feel like... cuz you never..." Her voice caught.

"Shhhhh. Stop. It's okay. Stephanie. I love you more than I can say. It doesn't mean..."

Thing was, I wasn't sure what it meant or didn't mean. That was still a smouldering, dark pit of mystery to me.

"Is it bad, Mommy? That I do it?"

"No, Stephanie. It's not bad. It's just not... everything. It's only something. And we have everything else."

"You have it with her, and you have it with Daddy."

I rocked her slowly in my arms. My thoughts and feelings were gyrating much more violently. I haven't been speechless very often in my life. Just then I was, utterly. My eyes closed. I was against the wall again, outside of Stephanie's bedroom door, straining to hear every sound.

"We're home." I tensed. Rick's voice, calling from the bedroom. "And I'm muddy... mind if I join you?"

Of course he assumed that I was alone in the shower. Stephanie looked up at me uncertainly.

"Errmmm. Welcome home. Just... give us a minute." As soon as I said it, I imagined his obvious question.

We dried off and wrapped up in towels. I poked my head sheepishly out of the bathroom door and into the bedroom. Rick was in his boxers, sitting on the bed. Stephanie stuck her head out beside mine. "Hi Daddy." She slipped past me and scampered down the hall to her room. Rick watched her go, his face inscrutable for a moment and then seemingly bemused.

"I guess everybody was muddy," he offered.

I tried to slow my breathing. Started to brush out my wet hair at the bathroom sink. "Stephanie informed me that we should be saving water. The planet, and all."

"That's my eco-girl. We're raising an activist. God help us."

I kept brushing. "How was the game?" Refuge in a new topic.

Rick was behind me. "Muddy," he said. He tugged at my towel and it fell to the floor. I set the brush down on the counter. His arms were around me, his hands at my breasts, his breath at my neck. I watched him in the mirror.

"Is this an odd time to fuck?" he said.

I swallowed. Let myself lean back against his warmth. Closed my eyes. "No," I said.

He turned me and lifted my hips onto the dark granite. It was warm and wet and slippery from the shower and in an instant he was inside me and he knew me as warm and wet and slippery from the shower.

"Open your eyes," he said. I did. I met his. They were steady, and hungry, as was his body as it moved. My legs in the crooks of his arms, his neck in the crooks of mine. His pace built, pushing the air from my lungs with each twist of his pelvis.

"You'll tell me. Every time. And everything." It was a statement, not a question. Part of me wanted to say, there was nothing. Nothing happened. It was just a shower. His cock drove deep and forced a word from my throat.

"Yes."

The truth sets you free. I came in waves, drawing him with me, lifted and filled and him, emptied.

#### Chapter XLV (Rick)

The imbalance wasn't lost on me. It wasn't fair to let Carol be the only guilty party. She has impeccable integrity, and I was exploiting it pretty shamelessly. She wanted me to know. In some perverse way, she thought this protected us from the greater harm that hiding would inevitably create. She was helpless before her feelings and let this be known. I was similarly helpless, but starkly unwilling to face the consequences.

She had to know that I was letting her off the hook too easily. Where was my outrage? How could I not be upset? Why did I fuck her every time I discovered that she'd let her feelings get the better of her?

I wish I could say that I had all this sorted into a plan that would lead our family out of the strange mushroom forest into which we'd wandered. I didn't. When I said to Carol, in coitus, "You'll tell me," I meant simply that. I wanted to know because I found it irresistibly erotic. If she was feeling these things, I wanted to share in it, to revel in it, despite the depravity. What excites her excites me. I wasn't at all sure that the converse would be fully true. I was giving her permission, with a quid pro quo.

I carried her into the shower, which I needed badly. I washed her back. She washed my front. I wrapped her in a towel. We laid on the bed, her clean back to my clean front. Her smell.

I didn't break the silence. That was up to her. After a long moment, she squeezed my hand.

"I didn't. But if you hadn't gotten home when you did, I probably would have."

I kissed her hair. She knew there was more to say.

"She felt... neglected... because of Caroline and... what I did... because... I didn't do it with her."

She swallowed. A slight tremor in her body.

"She wanted me to. I... wanted to."

Apparently Carol had accepted my terms, but not as intended. Rather she took my words as an admonition, what a partner might say to an addict who they knew was certain to relapse. _If at least I know that you're using again, I can make sure that you don't overdose and die._ With this rationale, she thought I'd yet again shown her that I would stick with her even as she struggled. She didn't recognize that imagining her elegant fingers exploring Stephanie's bare quim made me want to cum in my pants.

"But you didn't."

"No, Rick. I didn't."

"That wasn't a confirming question, Carol. It was an acknowledgement." I held her to my chest.

More silence. Then, "Why do I want to?"

If you ask me a question I'm likely to try to answer it, even if I shouldn't.

"You want to be close to them. You're afraid of losing them. It seems like an extension of love and caring. You let it happen, with Caroline. She remembered nursing. You wanted your baby back. She explored. You encouraged. It... woke something up in you. A memory of a feeling, maybe. You were ten, when we held hands." I stopped myself.

"That all sounds so lovely, Rick. Lovely rational crap. I'm broken, somehow."

"Tell me what you want to do." _Fuck._ Perhaps my deepest degeneracy to date.

It took a moment. "When I saw her face. Caroline. When she touched herself. It was... such perfection. I wanted it. For her, and for me. And I think about it. Outside of Stephanie's door. What her face... would be like."

"That's not rational crap. But it is lovely, Carol. To me, it's lovely."

"It can't be okay. With you. With anybody."

"To see ecstasy in those you love. It's okay with me, for you to want that. I feed on your ecstasy. I don't care about anybody else."

She turned and looked at me intensely. "Stop with the fucking euphemisms, Rick. I watched Caroline cum. Then I helped her cum so I could see it again. And I came hard, listening to Stephanie."

"What would you have me do, Carol? You're already torturing yourself over this. We've always been open with each other. I'm being honest when I say I don't see the harm. Kids touch themselves, even our perfect kids. It doesn't make them less perfect. We can be the sort of parents who pretend it doesn't happen, that we wish it would go away, and make them feel bad about themselves in the process. That doesn't make any sense to me. Why not acknowledge it? If it stays with us, what's the harm?"

"More weasel-words. _Acknowledge._ "

"Fine. It's sexual. What's sexual to those you love is bound to affect you."

_"Affect."_

She wasn't going to let me wiggle away this time. "Okay then. It makes you horny to watch your daughters cum."

"Yes. Don't stop."

"And that makes you want to help them cum."

"Yes. Good."

"Okay. What would you have me do?"

"Fix me. Fix me, Rick. Please."

"The only way I can think to do that is to keep loving you as much as I do, as much as I always have."

"Bullshit." Angry now, but her voice was weak.

"Should I send you away? Put you in therapy?"

"Maybe." She swallowed. Her eyes closed. Then, finally, "Please God no. Don't send me away."

"I won't. Do you think you should talk to somebody?"

She shook her head. "Who? And tell them what?"

"Exactly, Carol. That's why it's okay. It can't be not okay. You're mine. I need you. Nobody's going to fucking interfere with that. Do you understand? Nothing else matters except this family."

She let my ferocity sink it. It seemed to calm her.

I saw movement in my peripheral vision. Caroline's brown eyes, wide and anxious, peering around the door frame.

"Hello sweetpea."

More of her face appeared, chewing her lip.

"Are you fighting?"

We didn't fight much, and almost never in front of the girls.

"No, pumpkin. We're discussing."

"Bad words mean fighting."

"Sometimes they do. This time they mean discussing."

She considered this and decided there were more immediate concerns. "Kiss and make up cuz we're starving."

I kissed my wife. Caroline beamed, believing that she'd fixed everything.

Carol closed her eyes. "Lunch it is," she said. "That will fix everything."

"It's a start," I said.

**************************

I didn't think that lunch would fix everything, but there is some salvation in normalcy. Making sandwiches, talking about the awful parents at soccer who scream "Kick itttttttttttt" through frothing lips, realizing that we're out of strawberry and that Stephanie will just have to live with grape this one time and no it will not kill her. The stuff of family. Carol was subdued but managed a few smiles. After we ate she retired to the living room and curled up with a book. I gave her space.

I can't say that I'm proud of what I did next. I'm not sure it was wrong either. We were in the giant mushroom forest, wandering. Something had to change. The answer wasn't in separation. We had to come through this together.

I followed Stephanie to her room and perched on the edge of the bed. Patted the space beside me. She sat, her leg against mine.

"Are you mad, Daddy? I didn't say..."

"I know, kitten. It's okay. I'm glad that you're getting along with your mother. It's important."

"Ya. Me too. I don't want... I mean... you know." She looked at her bare feet.

"You shouldn't be jealous of her and Caroline."

"I'm not."

I gave her a gentle look.

She protested. "I just wondered how come... you know..."

"I know, sweetpea. She doesn't love you less. But Caroline was... more open with her."

"What do you mean, Daddy?"

I hesitated. Perhaps I should have waited forever. I didn't.

"Caroline let her watch."

Stephanie looked up at me and blinked. I kissed her forehead and left her there, sitting on her bed, deep in thought.

#### Chapter XLVI (Carol)

"You said it's not bad, Mommy."

"It's not, love bug. It's just not something we do all the time. There are so many other things to do."

"But it's not bad."

"No, Caroline. It's not bad."

"It feels nice."

"Yes, it does."

"So how come you act like it's bad?"

My just-turned-seven daughter can be relentless, which can be exhausting. She also has a way to get to the heart of things, to see the simple truths. In this case, it was hard to argue with her. We were on her bed, reading Madeline. Caroline's small hand was resolutely, almost defiantly, buried in her underpants. _They smiled at the good and frowned at the bad and sometimes they were very sad._

"Do I?" It was an honest question. I'd gently tried to distract her, suggest that she do other things. I hadn't explicitly told her to stop, or to hide.

"I liked when you helped. You don't help anymore."

"Oh." Of course. Not the easy bit. My mind raced. I stalled. "That's a bit different."

"How come? Is helping bad?"

Errrmmmm. I thought for a long moment. "Some people wouldn't understand, little one. They think it should be just private, just you."

"That's dumb. It's lonesome." To the heart of it. "Stephanie understands. She helped me."

"Yes, kitten. You told me that she did." I felt my brain start to tumble down a staircase of self-recrimination. I'd started all this, after all.

Caroline's small round face was knotted in confusion. "Does Daddy understand helping?"

 _Fuck._ A forced confrontation with a truth I was trying to avoid. "I suppose he does, yes."

"So nobody else matters. I won't tell anybody else so they don't needa understand." _Quod erat demonstrandum._

I saw her fingers curl under the taut fabric of her small white panties. A faint pink blush on her cheeks. Eyes drifted, breath quickened. She paused and peered up at me.

"Don't you want to help, Mommy?"

Can honesty be a flaw? Should we admit all of our feelings? At times I have genuinely wanted to kill people. Criminals or unethical lawyers. Literally, I imagined taking out a gun and shooting them between the eyes, seeing the warm red splatter. I didn't say it, though. I didn't announce it. I didn't even fully admit it to myself. Just a passing thought, a natural limbic response. And I certainly didn't act on it.

But this was Caroline, my precious baby that I could not, would not lose. With whom I wanted no boundaries, no separation. I wanted to share everything, be part of every bit of her for as long as she'd let me. In the end, this response felt natural too, something from the core of me. Perhaps not from my lizard brain as much as from my soul.

I kissed her cheek softly. The words emerged unbidden. "Take off your pants, little one."

Her smile pierced me, forcing me to acknowledge the heat between my legs. My fingers found my own undeniable wetness. Tactile met visceral and spawned a deep shudder. Was this what I was? In that moment, I was.

Caroline lifted her bottom and wiggled out of her underpants, leaving them tangled around one perfect foot, her knees bent and splayed flat on the bed. Our hands met at the juncture of her legs.

I'd touched her there in the course of things, in the bath. I knew the impossible softness, the subtle inner structure hidden in the simple smooth facade, the folds and the delicate petals. I hadn't let myself explore before that moment. I pressed my cheek to hers and I fondled my daughter's immature sex, watching her face with a hunger that surprised me even now. She let her small hand rest on mine as my fingers worked, slowly... thoroughly finding and circling... pressing... rubbing... relentless.

My shame flared but was washed away in a flutter of her eyelids. Her lips parted, bottom lifting to press herself against me. I allowed myself to relish every squirm, every pant, every curl of her toes. As if I could not.

She tensed... pushed up hard, her back an arch... and again... her bottom taut, tiny hollows at the sides... a small squeak... the sounds of Stephanie evoked... hugged my neck tight... my lips at her nape. Whispers at her miniature ear. "That's it... that's my baby girl... it's okay... Mommy's got you."

As she clung I felt her breathe and I felt myself, the slightest touch a trigger... my own gasp and tremor. I came in waves, the heat burning away any remaining doubt. I was.

We laid together, my hand lingering at her cleft. A thin slickness. I hadn't known, or remembered. Not at seven. But unmistakable.

Her face on my shoulder. Her voice very quiet. "What do you call it, Mommy?"

"This, you mean?" I gave her mons a gentle squeeze.

"No Mommy. That's my kitty. The... thing. What we did."

"Oh." Hmmm. I was surprised that I was able to think about this question clearly. "There's a big fancy word for it, but I don't think a big word fits us, sweetpea." I let myself breathe before my next whisper. "Maybe we just call it... _bliss_."

#### Chapter XLVII (Rick)

The girls had been born just two weeks apart on the calendar, separated by two years. Each year, there was a short window when Stephanie was technically three years older than her sister, a fact that she loved to lord over us all. When Caroline's birthday came, the dialog was predictable.

"Now I caught up," the younger girl would say.

"Ya but you're still behind. You'll always be the baby. You can't ever catch up all the way."

This year, Caroline looked to her mother for help. Carol smiled. "There's no rush to grow up, sweetpea. I like having you as my baby."

Stephanie looked like she was searching for a sharp retort. Finding none, she slouched into a pout. Caroline beamed, basking in the rare victory.

**************************

In bed, reading side by side with my wife before sleep is a particular intimacy that we both find precious. No need to talk, but sharing the occasional snippet and chuckle. A touch, a smile. Sometimes it leads to other things, and sometimes not. Both outcomes are just fine.

That night, Carol seemed distracted, flipping pages back and forth as though she wasn't remembering what she'd just read.

"You seem pensive," I offered.

"No. Just thinking." It was a small joke we'd shared many times. Nerdy, like us. Intimate.

She put her book down. I put mine down. We knew our signals. She turned her back to my front. There were things to say without eye contact. I pulled her to me, my hand on her tummy.

"I said I'd tell you," she said.

I swallowed. "You did." Actually, I'd told her that she'd tell me, in a particularly heated moment. She had assented. True to her word, is my spouse. Be careful what you ask for.

There was a long pause. I let it be.

Finally, "I brought her off. Last night." Simply said, just like that. She amazes me.

"Caroline?" Just to be sure.

"Ya. She asked me to." An exculpatory explanation.

I kissed her neck. Just a peck. "I didn't really know... at that age..." I was curious. I knew about eight, but not so much about just-seven. I was also filling space, tip-toeing around the most dangerous bits.

"Yes." After a moment, "Small ones. But yes."

"And you..."

"Yes. I brought myself off. It was... intense. Needful. After... seeing her."

"How do you feel about it?" I told myself that I was helping her work through it. Perhaps it was self-serving, even cruel. In either case, I wanted to know.

"Confused, Rick. She asked if helping is bad. I said people wouldn't understand. She asked if you understood."

I couldn't let it pass this time. "And?"

"I told her that you did. And she said that's all that matters."

I squeezed her. "I think Caroline is the smartest of us all, sometimes."

I felt her tremble.

"You'll keep me?" A tiny voice. If she wasn't beside me I would have mistaken it for Stephanie's.

"Forever and ever. You are not optional for me, Carol. You are essential, and you are mine."

She turned in my arms and met my gaze. "Show me. Show me how you need me. I have to know."

I kissed her for a very long time. Her hands were urgent at my hardness. When we fucked, I held her wrists against the bed and let my weight press her deep into the mattress. Her eyes consumed mine, consumed all of me.

#### Chapter XLVIII (Stephanie)

I didn't know what to do about my Mom. I like that her and Daddy love each other so much. I heard them in the bathroom that day after soccer, when Daddy came home and we were in the shower. I pretended to go to my room but I snuck back and listened. Daddy used the f-word and I heard the noises and then I had to do it and I did it right there, standing in the hall.

It's nice that her and Caroline have stuff too. I don't want to be jealous. It thought maybe she wanted to that day but then Daddy came home. Maybe she was thinking about it and that made her want sex with Daddy. I was thinking about it too when I did it in the hall, and thinking about Daddy. It's all pretty confusing.

Daddy said that Caroline let Mommy watch. That's how Daddy and me started too, watching. Maybe he said that because he knew I was feeling left out with Mommy. I guess it makes sense but it seems pretty weird. I'm not sure if I can do it.

On Wednesday me and Andrea went to the pool with her Mom again. Andrea was still shy about changing. She rolled her eyes when I took off my clothes but I didn't care anymore so I just stuck my tongue out at her.

We were only there a little while when Andrea's Mom came to the pool from the gym. I guess something happened with her brother and she had to go. Her Mom said that she called my Dad and that he would come get me. I had to get out of the pool cuz she said she didn't want me there without a grownup. I mean, there's a lifeguard right there. Whatever.

I was walking back to the ladies' when I felt a hand on my back. It was the swimming lady. She was in her suit but with a wrap-around. She always looked really nice.

"Oh my. Stephanie, I just love your new suit. It's perfect. Turn around, sweetie, let me see." Mommy finally let me get a two-piece. It's this dark red color and the top is like a tank top and it's got the cool swoosh thing. It's not too small but it shows my tummy. I can't wait for Daddy to see me in it.

I did a twirl and she put her hand on my head. "I remember my first two-piece. My Mom didn't let me have one until I was 12. It makes you feel grown up, doesn't it?"

"Yes ma'am. I guess so. I like it."

"Oh please, call me Gale. We're friends, aren't we?" She bent down and whispered. "We've even showered together, haven't we? You can't be formal with someone who's seen you naked."

I giggled at that. "Ummm... okay I guess... Gale." I never called a grownup by her first name before. It felt naughty but I liked it.

"Where are your parents, sweetheart?"

"Oh. I was here with my friend but she had to go. Daddy's coming to pick me up."

"All by yourself? Well, that's no fun." Her teeth are so white you can't see anything else when she smiles.

She held out her hand and I took it since she was being so nice. I was kinda surprised when she took us to the Family Changing Room. We went in and she closed the door. "This is so much nicer, don't you think? I know that you come here with your Daddy."

She got us towels and started drying me off over my suit. Her hands are strong. She messed up my hair and we laughed. Then she said "Lift your arms, sweetie." I did and she pulled my top off. It was nice even though she was kinda treating me like a little kid. Mommy said it's okay for me feel little sometimes. I guess I still do. 

"I've seen you together. I can tell that you love each other a lot."

"Ya." She knelt down and took off my bottoms. I guess I was getting used to her undressing me. She kept drying everyplace.

"You like coming here with him, don't you? To the Family Changing Room."

I nodded. She stopped drying and looked at me. "You get to be naked with him here. You look forward to that, don't you?"

It was weird how she seemed to know stuff. I didn't answer.

"Secrets are scary sometimes. But I bet you're good at secrets, Stephanie."

I shrugged. She said, "It's easier to keep a secret if you can share it with one other person, I think. One other special person that you know understands." That smile again. It almost made me dizzy. "I'll tell you one of my secrets if you like," she said.

I guess I nodded. She whispered. "When I was your age, I was special to my Daddy. I think you're special to your Daddy too. So I think you'll understand and keep my secret. Won't you, Stephanie?"

My tummy was tight but I said, "Ya. I won't tell."

She pushed my hair back behind my ear with her finger. "Thank you, precious. You know what I mean, don't you? My Daddy would come to my room at night. We spent time together then, special times."

I looked at my feet and my face felt hot. It was scary but I liked thinking that I wasn't the only girl that was like that.

"Does your Daddy come to your room, Stephanie? You know that I'll understand."

I shook my head. She looked surprised. "It's okay, princess. Maybe it's embarrassing. It's hard to talk about when it's such a big secret, isn't it?"

I nodded. She wasn't giving up though. "Does he come, then?"

"No ma'am. I mean, no. Gale."

She bit her lip. "Oh. Then I guess I misunderstood. I'm sorry, Stephanie... I didn't mean to make you..." She sounded worried and handed me the towel. I held it in front of myself.

"It's okay. I just mean my Dad doesn't come to my room. I go to his room."

"Oh. Oh. I see." Her eyes got big and she covered her mouth with her hand but then she smiled again. "What a big girl you are, to do that." I saw her swallow. Her hand went on my leg. "Is your Mom home when you go to his room, Stephanie?"

I shook my head. She said, "I thought that was probably true. My Mom didn't know either. It was our secret, me and my Dad."

"I wish she knew. I don't want her to be mad at me. She loves Daddy... as much as I do."

"Oh sweetheart. Yes, I see. I loved my Daddy too, so very much. So much that my heart ached. So much that I'd do... anything." She looked down. "It's a difficult thing, with your Mom. I'm not sure that she'd understand, sweetie."

Her eyes were shiny. Maybe she really loved her Daddy like I do. Someplace inside I knew I shouldn't be telling her but it just came spilling out. "Daddy says that too, but I think maybe she would understand since she does stuff with my sister."

Gale's eyebrows went way way up. "Oh. Oh. I see. Well now. Isn't that something."

Her hand squeezed my leg. Maybe I looked sad. "Oh. She does with your sister, but not with you?"

I nodded. "Ah. That's... I see." She touched my hair, tried to straighten it. "Does that make you sad, Stephanie? Or angry?"

"I guess so. Sometimes. Kinda. But... she's my Mom."

"I know, little one. I know. It's good to talk about it though, isn't it?" Her voice got more quiet then. "What happens when you go to your Daddy's room, Stephanie? You can tell me."

I didn't have anybody else to tell and it was all trying to get out of me. I blurted it out like Caroline would. "He kisses me like a grownup and then he puts his hand there and I put my hand there and we... you know... until we... you know..." I was breathing at the end like I just did something hard.

"Oh. I know. I know all about that, sweetheart. It was the same with my Daddy. All that, and other things too." She smiled like she was remembering something nice. "It's all good when you love each other. It's all okay."

"Other things?"

"Do you know about the other things, Stephanie? Other things that people do to make each other feel good."

"I guess so. I mean... I know my Mom does it with... you know... her mouth... sometimes."

"Hmmm. Yes." I felt like she was trying to see inside me. "You saw her do that, didn't you? I can tell."

I nodded. "Do you do that for your Daddy, Stephanie? I did, for my Daddy."

I shook my head. "No. It's weird."

She touched my cheek with her other hand. "That's just fine, sweetheart. It's okay. All in good time, I think. You're so small still."

I didn't really like that she said I was small.

"Your Daddy... does he ever kiss you... there?" She moved her hand up between my legs. I thought maybe she was just pointing so I'd know what she meant, but she left it there.

I made a face. "No. Do people do that? That's even more weird."

"Oh yes, princess. People do. Lots of people. It's a wonderful thing. It was my very favorite thing, when my Daddy kissed me there. When he started doing that, I never wanted him to stop."

I didn't say anything but my face was on fire. She said, "And your Mom, with your sister... what happens?"

I shouldn't have told but it was hard to think right then. "I guess my Mom helps her. Like when they take a bath."

"Helps her?"

"You know... like helps her do sex with herself."

"Your Mom helps her masturbate, you mean."

One of those weird sex words. I wasn't gonna say it. "Ya. That."

"You saw her?"

"No. My sister told."

"I see. I see."

Her hand started moving down there.

"Thank you so much for sharing with me, Stephanie. I understand so very well. Why don't you sit on the bench, sweetheart."

I sat down. She took the towel and laid it to the side. I swallowed and watched her hand. Her smile was nice and her hand was nice.

"I'd like to help you now, Steph. I'd like to help you like your Mom helps your sister. Would you like that, sweetheart? It's okay if you want me to stop."

I opened my legs a little. I couldn't help it. She said, "I think that means yes, but I'd like to hear you say it, just to be sure."

"Ummm... ya... you can... help me." I was scared it but it made me all warm too.

She leaned in and kissed me on the lips. It was soft and warm and cozy, different from Daddy's kisses. Then she kissed my chest and her hands were all over me, up my legs and between and under me even. She pushed my legs apart and said, really quiet, "Do you trust me, Stephanie?"

I said "Yes ma'am" and she smiled. "So polite even now, even naked. If you trust me, then let me show you how it can feel, little one. Let me show you how special my Daddy made me feel."

I guess I nodded but I don't really remember and then she put her mouth there and she started kissing and then her tongue was there and it was everyplace and I couldn't even believe it. I made a noise and she looked up and shushed me but she had this giant smile and she went back down there and she did it and she did it and her lips were right on the bump and her eyes were on my face til I had the very best one ever, even better than when Daddy did it with his fingers.

After, she kissed the inside of my leg. "You're perfect, Stephanie. You know that, don't you?"

I shook my head. It was really really confusing. "I... think my Dad's probably here..."

"But you are. Perfect. Your secret's safe with me, sweetheart. Go see your Daddy, your Daddy who you love more than you can even begin to say." Her eyes were shiny again. I grabbed my suit and wrapped up in a towel cuz all my stuff was in the ladies' room so I had to run there in the towel to get dressed. Daddy was waiting outside by the car and when he smiled at me the way he does I melted and I hugged him so tight and put my face on his tummy.

He said, "Are you okay, pumpkin?"

And I said, "I just love you so much, Daddy. More than I can even begin to say."

He wrapped me up in his big strong arms and kissed my messy hair. "Oh Stephanie. I love you too, princess. Even more than that."

#### Chapter XLIX (Carol)

It was Rick's turn to be away for the evening, meeting with his college-bound students. I was nesting with the girls. Grilled cheese, golden brown and not at all burnt. Whole wheat bread though. It's a vital skill for a mother, sneaking good-for-you into fun-for-you.

We ate early and settled into the livingroom in our PJs to do homework, my legs tucked up on the couch and the girls sprawled on the carpeted floor around the low coffee table.

"You get homework even when you're grown up?" Caroline looked dismayed as I shuffled through the case briefs I needed to catch up on.

"Some people do, sweetpea. Lawyers often do."

"Maybe I don't want to a lawyer."

"What do you want to be? You have lots of time to decide."

"She shouldn't be a spy cuz she blabs about everything," offered Stephanie, helpful as always. I gave her a chiding look. She continued, unimpressed by my glare. "Or an astronaut cuz she farts all the time and that would be bad in a spaceship. Or a zookeeper cuz all her goldfish die..."

"Stephanie. How about naming some things your sister is good at?"

"Hmmm. Pestering. Can you get paid for pestering? Geez. She'd be rich."

To her credit, Caroline was learning not to take her sister's bait. "Maybe I'll write books," she said.

I smiled. "What would you write about, pumpkin?"

"Stupid mean evil wicked sisters named Stephanie and how they're not part of the happily-ever-after." She stuck our her tongue.

"We'll all be part of our happily-ever-after, Caroline. We're none of us wicked. And you know that _stupid_ is a swear."

Caroline presented a defiant lower lip. "She started it."

"Yes, she did. What do you have to say to your sister, Stephanie?"

"Stop pestering me. And feed your fish."

"Stephanie."

The predictable eye-roll. "Okkaayyyyyy. I guess you might be good at writing books since you talk so much."

Caroline seemed satisfied with this, so I let it rest. My youngest got bored with her coloring and crawled up beside me on the couch. I draped an arm around her as I read. She squinted at my papers.

"Are they about bad people, Mommy?"

"Mostly about people who did bad things. A person who does a bad thing isn't always a bad person."

"I thought bad is just bad."

"Sometimes it's more tricky. Like... if we needed to rush to the hospital because somebody was very sick, we might go faster than the speed limit. Speeding is bad, but most people would think it's okay in that situation."

Stephanie chimed in. "But what if you're speeding to the hospital and that makes somebody else have an accident?"

"Good point. Unintended consequences." It's never the wrong time for a vocabulary lesson. "Not everybody agrees about what's bad. Judges and lawyers help sort it out."

"So how do we know, Mommy? What's bad?"

"I always start by thinking about whether someone is getting hurt. If you don't do things that hurt other people, chances are you're not being bad."

Caroline nodded slowly. I smiled down at her. Her hand was inside her leggings. Stephanie noticed too. I expected her to seize on the opportunity to call her little sister a baby, but she didn't.

Caroline saw us both looking. "What? It's not bad," she said.

"You're supposed to do it in your room." Stephanie's voice was surprisingly quiet. She was looking at me.

"How come, if it's not bad?"

"Cuz it's private," said Stephanie.

"That's dumb," said my youngest. "If I go to my room you're gonna know I'm doing it. Like we know when Stephanie's doing it in her room. I like doing it and I don't care if you know."

My eldest blushed a little. I found that I could only shrug, helpless in the face of the truth. I realized that I didn't really know what Stephanie thought about my situation with Caroline. _Situation. Ha ha. Euphemisms._ I studied Stephanie's face. She looked uncertain and more than a little unhappy.

_They smiled at the good and frowned at the bad and sometimes they were very sad._

I patted the couch beside me. Stephanie bit her lip and hesitated before she clambered up. I draped my other arm around her. "My precious girls. Part of me, like my arms. We don't have to be dumb. Not when it's just us."

Stephanie looked up at me. "I don't like hiding from you, Mommy."

I kissed her forehead. "I don't like you hiding, sweetpea."

She buried her face in my chest, something she hadn't done for forever. I watched, astounded at my own state of calm, as she slid her elegant little hand under the waistband of her sweatpants. I stroked her hair.

Caroline giggled softly. "Stephanie's doing it."

"Shut up. So are you."

I let my hands rest on top of their clothes, on top of their hands, on top of them, spying the motion of their fingers. As their urgency increased I nuzzled their faces, each in turn, basking in the glow of their cheeks. Stephanie tensed first, a gasp and a squeak, the sound through her door, me against the wall, Rick's hand... her face, her parted lips a revelation that seared itself into my mind and body. Caroline seemed content to just be cozy, smaller in all things, a happy squirm, toes bunched into little fists.

Stephanie hugged my waist. "I love you, Mommy. I missed you."

"I know, Stephanie. I missed you too."

I closed my eyes, just for a moment. When I opened them, Rick was smiling down at us. We'd all fallen asleep, just like that, in a blissful tangle on the couch, papers strewn forgotten on the floor, legal and grade school fallen together.

#### Chapter L (Rick)

It was perhaps the most beautiful thing I'd seen in my life, my wife and daughters wrapped around each other, asleep.

Routine family life can be exhausting. There's always something. Almost never a calm moment. We have to truly treasure them when they come.

Carol's eyes blinked open. She looked a little startled. "Oh.... Hi... I just... I closed my eyes and..."

I shushed her with my finger, nodded to the girls. "It's late. You take one. I'll take the other."

She nodded and scooped up Caroline. Not as easy as it used to be. The little one stirred and rubbed her wrist over her eyes. "Nooooo Mommy I want to see the ennnddddd..."

"We weren't even watching anything, kitten. It's time to sleep." She trundled off to Caroline's room.

I stroked Stephanie's cheek. She stretched sleepily, withdrawing her arm from her sweatpants. This had not been lost on me, that both girls were asleep with their hands between their legs. "Hi Daddy." Her soft smile was my purest joy. I gathered her up, her legs around my waist, my hands under her bottom. I laid her gently in bed and pulled the covers up around her. Kissed her forehead and said, "Nite nite, princess. I love you."

She reached for my hand as I turned. "Daddy. Don't go."

"It's late, Steph. You need to sleep."

"Daddy. Kiss me." Her voice in the dim light from the hall was barely a whisper, but it echoed in my ears.

I bent and kissed her cheek. Slender arms encircled my neck as she pressed her lips to mine, hunger in the well of her brown eyes.

Her door was open. I broke the kiss as gently as I could. Sat on the edge of the bed.

"Are you okay, little one?"

A slight nod. "I just... I think about it sometimes... at night... I'm awake and I think... what if you came in my room..."

I had no words. I could only swallow and squeeze her hand. "Time to sleep, precious." I managed to not look back as I left her and closed her door.

Carol was sitting on the bed, still in tshirt and sleeper pants, her feet on the floor. She watched me a little sheepishly as I undressed. I stopped at my boxers, unsure of her mood.

"What a perfect, cozy scene to come home to," I ventured.

She nodded. Still sat. I approached from the front and lifted her chin with my finger. She tried to avert her eyes. I wasn't having it.

"Lift your arms." She did, eyes still downcast. I pulled her tshirt off and straightened her hair with my fingers. Cupped her face in my hand as I dropped to my knees between her legs. "Lift." She lifted her bottom and I peeled off her pants and underpants, tugged them from her feet. My hands at her knees. "Look." She tentatively raised her eyes and met my gaze.

"Tell me." I kept my focus on her face as I kissed my way up her thigh and buried my mouth in the warmth of her sex. Lapped at her patiently and listened. She was quiet for a few minutes. I imagined myself slowly washing away her shame.

"I... let them." Her fingers in my hair, shyly at first, then spreading pushing through to the back, pulling me tighter. I dug in, penetrating with my tongue. "They did it at the... same time..." Her breath now short, her hips moving against me. "I held their... hands... felt them move..." A shudder in her legs and tummy... "I saw... Stephanie... I saw her... cum... her face... oh god..." The last word guttural but not taken in vain. I held my nose to her mons, breathed her deep as her spasms tried vainly to expel me.

I held her, after. Her back to my front. She let me. In the dark, her voice echoed.

"How do we know what's bad?"

"You're the lawyer." A dodge, but not an artful one.

"Don't tease me right now. Caroline asked me. How do we know?"

"What did you say?"

"You know me, Rick. What would I say to our child on that topic?"

"Hmmm. Probably something about not hurting anybody."

"Can it really be that simple?"

"Was anybody hurt?"

"No. You know I wouldn't."

"Of course I know. And you know when I'm being rhetorical. Did it seem bad, Carol?"

She shook her head. "In the moment, no. We felt... close. Closer than I've been to Stephanie in a long time."

"She needs you. I think hiding in her room made her feel isolated. So stay in the moment. Fuck the rest."

She pressed my hand to her chest. Eventually we slept.


	2. Family Changing Room - Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new venue spurs a family to evolve.

#### Chapter LI (Carol)

It feels strange to give up control, to let feelings drive actions in a direct and unconstrained way. I'd been following the rules my entire life. As I reflected on this, I slowly came to understand that I'd been doing it by default. I hadn't weighed the pros and cons of conformity and adopted it by choice. It had always been assumed, the alternatives never recognized. Order and structure came to me naturally. The legal profession was an inevitable career choice.

I suppose it's a bit like religion. If you're raised in a faith, it may never occur to you to question it. People go through their entire lives without ever asking themselves why they believe what they've been taught about the eternal. It takes a forcing function - a life crises or our own impending mortality - to make us step back and reconsider our truths.

My boundaries were being challenged in ways I'd never imagined. I was behaving in ways that I wouldn't have thought possible. Still, something inside me said that this was the nature of family. Being part of a whole reshapes you in every sense. My intense need to be close to my daughters and my husband, to have no boundaries and no secrets with them, seemed to overwhelm my dearly-held grasp of normalcy.

"I saw you doing sex with your mouth," said my nine-year-old daughter. We were driving home from soccer. I was chiding her about her homework. She was trying to change the subject. It worked.

"Oh?" I needed a moment to process. There was a vague recollection... me on my knees between Rick's legs, the sound of small bare feet slapping down the hall. Penance.

"Ya. With Daddy. In your room."

 _Crap._ "I'm sorry, Stephanie. You shouldn't have seen that."

"How come?"

"It's not something you're supposed to see."

"No, I mean... why do you do that? It's weird."

In my desperate search for an appropriate response, it didn't occur to me to be concerned that Stephanie wasn't in any way upset about this experience. Just another step on our strange and wandering path of discovery.

"I'm not sure we should talk about this, Stephanie."

She frowned. "You said I could ask about sex."

She had me there. I was losing any sense of where and how to draw lines.

"That's true." I swallowed. "I guess there wasn't anything about that in the book."

"The baby book."

"I'm doing my best, Stephanie. I want you to ask, and to understand. But I don't want you to grow up too fast. Don't rush, little one. Please."

She shrugged. "Daddy looked really happy."

I couldn't stop myself from laughing. "Well. Yes. I suppose he would have."

"But... it... was in your mouth..."

"Yes."

"Ewwwwww?" The wordless question was posed in the sarcastic tone that only a young girl can fully articulate, the lift at the end implying that the answer was completely obvious and didn't need to be stated.

"Not ewww. Just... intimate. It's hard to explain. You saw his face. Making him happy that way makes it not gross, I guess. It's just... part of him."

"But at the end..."

Given the topic, I suppose this question was bound to come. Still I hesitated to say to my preteen that I swallow her Daddy's cum. I do though. No boundaries. "Yes. Even at the end. It suppose it is weird, sweet pea. And you don't have to think about it for a long time, I hope." Her persistence tingled my Spidey-sense. "Did some boy..." I gave her a concerned-parent look.

She cut me off instantly. "Mom. No. Not even. I just... cuz I saw..." She hugged her knees to her chest.

I nodded silently, hoping that we'd leave this topic behind. But after a moment, she asked the next inevitable question.

"What does it taste like?"

I'd had a little time to think and prepare an answer. "It tastes like your father," I offered, my eyes fixed on the road.

Stephanie smiled. I touched her knee. I took her blush as a sign that her curiosity was satisfied, for the moment at least.

#### Chapter LII (Rick)

It seemed sudden. When you see your children every day, sometimes it's hard to see them grow. Then they surprise you.

At seven, Caroline had become a person with whom one could have conversations. For me, this was a delight. I had a tendency to speak to the girls like adults, even when it should have been clear that this wasn't an effective way to communicate with their developing minds.

It was my turn to take my youngest to her soccer game. On the way she was unusually chatty.

"You know lots of big words, Daddy."

"I suppose so. It's part of your job as a teacher. You should try to know more than your students so they can't easily bamboozle you."

"Bamboozle. That's a good one. Imma remember that. It means... like... make you look dumb?"

"Very good, sweetpea. It means to fool or trick or deceive. You figured that out from the context."

"From the other words you said. Ya."

Forgive me my moment of parental pride. It was short-lived.

"What's the big word for doing sex with yourself?"

I stalled. "What brought that to mind, Caroline?"

"Mommy wouldn't tell me. She calls it bliss."

"I think that's a very nice word for it."

Her lower lip extended. "I'm not a baby, Daddy."

"No. You're not."

"So?" 

I has to remind myself how I'd worked so hard to teach our girls the value of persistence, as it would benefit them in all of their live's endeavors. Deep breath. "The word you're looking for is masturbation, love bug."

Her look conveyed complete certainty that I just made that word up to bamboozle her.

"That can't be it. It sounds like something from Doctor Seuss."

"I suppose it does. But that really is the word."

She giggled, her grin all impish bandersnatch. "I would do it in a box."

Honestly, how could I resist? "Would you do it with a fox?"

"Ahuh. And on a boat."

"And with a goat?"

"Ya. I would do it here or there."

Now I paused. "Well. Caroline. You know... you really can't just do it anywhere. You know that, right?"

"Daddy. It's just for family. I know. And helping, that too. You and Mommy understand about helping, but other people maybe don't understand, so we don't talk about helping. Except with us."

I rested my hand on her head, serious now. "It's important, Caroline. Especially about the helping."

"It's not hurting anybody so it's not bad. It shouldn't have to be a secret."

"We know that's true. We share everything. Other people might want to take that away from us, or even take us away from each other. Let's never, ever give them the chance to take away our family."

Caroline nodded slowly, hugging her knees to her chest. "I won't let them, Daddy. Not never ever."

#### Chapter LIII (Carol)

When we got home, Stephanie took my hand on the way from the car. A welcome surprise. Warming. Maybe I wasn't losing her. We toed off our shoes on the porch, fall leaves swirling and crackling around us. Her hand still in mine as we walked down the hall to the master bedroom.

Once there, she released my hand and peeled off her shirt, tossed it on the bed. Neither of us felt the need to talk. She waited as I took off my top and sports bra.

"When will Daddy be home?" she asked. An innocent question on the surface, but the full implications were clear.

I looked at the clock. "Caroline's game is just starting."

Stephanie chewed her lip as she pushed her shorts and underpants down together. I followed suit. She sat on the bed and tugged off her tall white socks. I watched her, taking in the perfect form of her body, the nascent muscles, the dark and light boundaries along her fading tan lines, the fall season allowing less time in the sun. I allowed my eyes rest on her mons and felt my face warm. It should have been a shameless thing between mother and daughter. My body told me that it wasn't.

I turned on the shower. Tested the water, not-too-hot, Stephanie beside me. We stepped in. The warmth infused an immediate sense of comfort. I soaped her back and she soaped mine, slick slippery fingers. I let mine wander to the swell of her bottom.

"You're so pretty, Mommy." Her small hands on my hips, that permission granted by my intimate touch.

I blushed like a schoolgirl. Washed her hair slowly. It was down to her shoulders now. We'd decide if it was too hard to take care of and maybe should be shorter. But not today. Today it was perfect.

I took down the shower head. The long flexible hose let me bring it close to her for a thorough rinse. I held her from behind, my hand on her chest. Kissed the top of her head. Palpable expectation. Rick's voice from the bedroom would not intervene this time. He was far away. He would not save me.

Stephanie leaned back, her head just below my breasts. I closed my eyes and remembered something. My voice was quiet, close to her ear to rise above the hiss of the water.

"I figured something out when I was a little older than you. Would you like to know what it was, love bug?"

She nodded, her eyes looking curiously to mine. I took the shower head and brought it around to her front. Lowered the spray to her tummy. Then lower. The fine streams made tiny dimples in her soft flesh.

I felt her shiver. Her mouth parted, allowing the escape of a tiny gasp. I slid my hand between her legs and spread her cleft with my fingers. Nothing can be that soft. Moved the flow slowly, playing over the revealed inner petals, so modest in their diminutive profile.

Her eyes shut tight. The softest whimpers. I adjusted the spray to a smaller, more focused stream with gentle pulses. Aimed relentlessly at her most sensitive place. Her bottom pushed back against me, a compelling squirm... a deep shudder... a squeak, and another. I held her up as her knees weakened, her face a mask of bliss. The sight filled me like nothing but Rick's cock ever had.

Stephanie turned in my grasp, slippery from the water... lifted her arms and hugged my neck.

"You helped me, Mommy. It was... like... the best. Ever."

I kissed her forehead. "You're so beautiful, Stephanie. I love you more than I can say."

Her face at my bosom, now in the after a shameless thing. "Me too, Mommy."

I dried her with the biggest fluffiest towel. Brushed out her hair. We lay naked on the bed and talked girl talk until we heard the crunch of tires in the driveway. Stephanie gave me a knowing look. _I know what's going to happen next,_ it said. How much did she know, I wondered. My cheeks bloomed. I watched Stephanie's bottom as she scampered.

**************************

Rick found me a few minutes later, my fingers buried deep inside myself. I didn't pause as he closed the bedroom door and sat beside me, his weight an undeniable presence, his aura of lingering outside air crisp and fresh as I gasped it in.

He combed my hair back with his fingers and pressed his lips to my forehead. Somehow he knew to say nothing.

"She's... just so beautiful. Rick... I can't..."

"She's beautiful like her mother. I know, Carol. You don't have to explain." He laid his hand on mine, listened with his fingers to my spasmodic lust. His eyes held me, made me know that I was the only thing he saw.

"Cum for me," he said. As if I had a choice.

In the after, he held me and I told him and he held me and we talked until we heard what sounded like a full-on grade school pool party from the girls' bathroom.

#### Chapter LIV (Stephanie)

Caroline was in my room again. I didn't close the door so I didn't kick her out.

"How come you're naked?"

"I took a shower with Mommy. And she helped me." I guess I was bragging. I didn't mean to. Daddy said sometimes words want to be free. Those ones did and they got away.

"Oh." Then, "She helped me first." She sounded kinda mad.

"Ya but she helped me with the shower thing. It was so amazing. I almost fell over."

"Oh."

She looked back out of the room to where Mommy's bedroom is. I said, "Don't go there now. They're doing sex."

"They are?" Her eyes were big.

"Ya. They do that after soccer now, I guess."

"How do you know?"

"I just do. So don't."

"Oh."

She was staring at her feet. "We lost our game and I got stepped on a billion times and it hurt and I wanted to talk to Mommy..."

She started crying. I felt bad for bragging. Maybe she wanted Mommy to herself and that wasn't fair but I knew how I felt when I thought Daddy didn't want to do things with me so I tried to be nice.

"Sorry. Did you get cuts?"

She sniffed and nodded.

"Let me see."

She pointed to her knee and it was all scraped up under the dirt. "You should take a bath. You'll feel better and then we can put a bandaid on it."

She looked at the hallway again, then back at me.

Sigh. Mommy says if I want to be the big sister I should act like it. "Okkaayyyyyyy I'll go with you."

"You will?"

"Ya. I know you want Mommy but at least you won't be alone."

She almost smiled. "Okay."

I held her hand and we went to our bathroom. I got the water ready and she took off her clothes. She doesn't look so much like a baby now. I guess even babies grow up.

She got in and I washed her knee and she squeaked but it wasn't really cut that bad. I think she just wanted attention but I do too sometimes. I washed her back and her hair and by the end she wasn't so mad anymore.

She said, "Daddy told me a sex word. The big word for doing sex with yourself."

"Oh?" How come Daddy was talking to her about sex?

"Ya, I asked him and he told me."

"Oh." That was okay, I guess.

She frowned. "But I don't 'member it now."

"Masturbation?" Saying it felt funny on my tongue.

"Oh. Ya. So weird." We both giggled. She got out and I was drying her and she was sitting on the edge of the tub.

I guess we can't really stop trying to be better than each other. Daddy says it's something called sibling rivalry. Whatever.

"I know something even more weird."

"What?"

"People do sex with their mouth."

She blinked at me like I had three heads.

"That's stupid. You made it up. It isn't in the book and you can't make a baby that way."

"Sex isn't just to make babies. There's lots of sex stuff that's not in the book."

"Is not."

"Is so. It's like... what you do with your fingers... the other person does with their mouth."

"But... that's where..."

"Ya. 'zactly. It's the weirdest."

"I don't believe you."

I hate when she doesn't listen to me. So I just did it. I pushed her legs open and I kissed her there like the pool lady did.

She squealed really loud and shoved my head away. "That... is... soooo... grosssssss..." Then she slipped off the edge of the tub and fell back into the water and it went everyplace. I had to dry her and me all over again and we were laughing so hard. I guess we made a lot of noise cuz Daddy came to the door.

"What the devil are you guys doing?" He was trying to sound angry but I could tell he really wasn't.

We both said "Nothingggggg" at the same time. That made us laugh even more.

"Clean up the flood and get dressed, please. We're eating soon."

We were still all giggles during dinner.

#### Chapter LV (Rick)

Human being adapt. It's the reason we got to the top of the food chain, I suppose. Our brains got to a point where we could evolve ideas and knowledge faster than the things that were trying to eat us.

Caroline's questions. Stephanie fleeing bare to the skin from her mother's bed on my arrival. My wife's unashamed expression of her need, her inspiration implicitly understood. All part of the strange stew our family was simmering, an exotic gumbo of thoughts and sensations and fears and doubts and joy and learning and deep deep deepest devotion. I can't say that it felt totally natural, but it was beginning to seem less fundamentally unsettling.

Carol came to bed wearing nothing that night. I followed suit. Soon we were spooned in our familiar way, her back to my front. My hands were roving over her slowly, and we talked about our day. The soccer. The shopping. The girls flooding the bathroom. I was erect but not urgent. She reached back and held me, an end in itself.

We didn't move when the door opened a crack. A thin sliver of light from the hall, followed but a thin sliver of a voice.

"Mommy?"

"What is it, sweet pea? It's late."

"I just... I had a bad dream and I..."

"It's okay, love bug. Do you need a hug?"

Her silhouette nodded and rushed to the side of the bed. Carol encircled her with her arms.

"Do you want to talk about the dream, little one?"

"It was just bad and it was scary and..." Her words trailed off. "I just missed you."

"You don't need to have a bad dream to come, princess." Carol lifted the blanket. Caroline smiled, her teeth pale in the dim. She settled in beside her mother.

"You don't have clothes on, Mommy."

"That's true. I sleep this way sometimes."

"Are you doing sex with Daddy?"

"No, Caroline."

"Is Daddy naked too?"

"Yes."

"How come you're not doing sex?"

"It's time for sleeping."

"Oh."

It was quiet for a bit. Then a soft sound, the softest sound.

"Caroline. Not now, sweetpea. It's time to sleep."

I raised my head and peered over Carol's shoulder. My daughter's mouth was at her mother's breast, attached.

The memory may have struck us both at the same time. A much younger Caroline then, but so familiar.

The little one pretended not to hear, her eyes closed, her mouth working in a slow suckle. Small movements under the blanket. I knew, but I drew them back anyway to see. Caroline's hand, actively deep in her underpants.

At the instant Carol's desperate gaze met mine, I entered my wife from behind in one long, insistent stroke. She was entirely ready, the heat of her quim draining wetness down her thighs. There was no resistance from her body. She shook her head. I attacked her swollen lower lips with my fingers and fucked her, withdrawing only slightly before grinding deep.

"Look at her," I whispered. She did. Her cunt spasmed around me, a profound tremor.

My mouth at her ear. "What do you want?" She grabbed my hand and squeezed. I squeezed back. "You have me. Forever. No matter what. Now... what do you want?"

Carol's breath caught. Her hand moved. It rested on our daughter's narrow hip.

Caroline was not entirely asleep. Her small hand withdrew but only to awkwardly attempt to push her underpants down.

Carol completed the task. Caroline cooperated, lifting her bottom, her lips never breaking from her mother's nipple. And I watched as my wife's lovely hand met the ivory white of her child's sex... deftly took it in knowing fingers... gave it devoted care, drawing out the elegant diminutive shiver of joy unique to that tiny angelic face.

Carol's body responded with a shudder and mine followed in cascade. We failed to stay silent. Caroline's eyes fluttered open, her mouth releasing. Carol pushed her hair back and laid their cheeks together.

"Time to sleep now, Mommy?"

"Yes, love bug. Time to sleep."

I understood now. I was a party to bliss.

#### Chapter LVI (Carol)

I slept profoundly, my youngest daughter in my arms, my husband lingering in my cunt. Somehow this wasn't obscene, even in the light of morning. Rick was watching me with a curious look as I opened my eyes. Swaddled in the warmth of skin and blankets, I kissed him without even worrying that I hadn't brushed my teeth. Caroline was still deep in the sleep of the innocent, perfectly bare from the waist down, legs akimbo, the slope of her rounded tummy flowing uninterrupted to the understated rise of her sex, her face peacefully shameless in the pinkish early glow.

It seemed like we knew something now, Rick and I. We'd been skirting it, orbiting ever closer to the core of our feelings. He'd saved me from my shame, but more than that. He was now on this strange journey with me. In all things, we'd been equal partners, never out of balance for long. I needed to know that this was no exception.

As I broke the kiss I turned my eyes to our child. Rick's chin was on my shoulder.

"She's so beautiful," he said.

"Coward," I said.

He kissed my ear. "You've always been the brave one, Carol."

"But it's not just me, is it?"

He was quiet. Tried to distract me by kissing my neck. That usually worked, but I wasn't having it. I pressed on. "It's not just my excitement that excites you."

He kissed me again.

"Stop it. Answer me. Don't... don't leave me alone... in this."

Another moment. I sensed his tension, felt him wrestling with the feelings and the words. I knew his pain. My nature made it impossible for me to contain the truth. I'm not sure he'd ever before felt that he had anything to hide from me. He was at sea too.

"It's not fair, Rick. I... trusted you with this... even though it was... impossible. Because whatever I am, it's part of us and that's all that matters. Isn't it?"

An eternal moment. I felt the need for air and realized that I'd forgotten to breathe. And then, his hand on mine, leading me to his cock... it was intensely hard, his heartbeat in my palm. Then his hand... touching Caroline's hair... trailing down her chest, and her tummy, past the hem of her shirt, and lower... cupping her gently, parting her ever so carefully, his lips at my nape.

Despite myself, I sobbed. Caroline opened her eyes slowly. Rick rested his hand on her thigh. "Hi Mommy. Hi Daddy." He was smiling down at her like the sun. My body quieted.

"Hi princess. Did you have good sleeps?" His voice, our strength.

"Ahuh. We did sex." Nothing but the truth.

"We had a nice cuddle, sweet pea. That's what we say." Rick, keeping us safe even from the truth.

She shrugged and stretched like a sleepy kitten, her legs extending, no longer a hint of stubbiness. Rick's hand passed calmly over her softness as it moved to rest on her chest.

"Why don't you go see if your sister is up, princess? Maybe you two can start breakfast. Without starting a fire. Or a flood."

I found Caroline's underpants with my toes, bunched up at the foot of the bed under the sheets. I gave them to her as she slid out of bed. She was halfway out the door when she stopped, and turned... and closed it behind her with a meaningful giggle.

Rick had me on my back in an instant, his weight atop me, his eyes on mine.

"No, Carol. It's not just you. You're not alone. Not ever. Not for a second."

As his deep thrust filled my empty places, pushed the wind from my lungs, I could only breathe the words.

"Thank you."

#### Chapter LVII (Rick)

The carefully-constructed walls I'd been trying to establish were leaking badly. I now had a much better understanding of just how brave my wife actually was. My confession to her was the single most frightening thing I'd ever done. Compared to hers, it was easy. My arousal is difficult to conceal. It was increasingly impossible to deny that Carol's interactions with our daughters didn't make me stiff as a railroad spike. Beyond that, it was wrong to deny it, to leave her isolated and feeling like the family freak. I wasn't just tolerating her feelings, accepting them out of some pure devotion to our marriage. I had empathy, not just sympathy.

In one sense, it was a relief. She hadn't judged me, as I hadn't judged her. In another way it left me in a new state of uncertainty. As good as it felt to be honest, I realized that I was not at all ready to be completely so. Not yet, at any rate. I couldn't just let things evolve - or come to light - as they might without some explicit guidance.

The day after that morning was a busy one. The family retired to bed early and Carol was asleep when her head hit the pillow. I checked carefully to be sure this was true before I slipped out of bed.

In the wedge of light from the hall I saw Stephanie curled up on her side, small hands clasped almost as though in prayer. Angelic. Unspoiled. I closed the door behind me as I entered. Sat on the edge of the bed and touched her face very gently. She stirred and brushed me away, sleepily expecting a bug. I laid my hand against her cheek and her eyes opened slowly.

"Daddy. You came to my room. You came..." She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me on the mouth with obvious purpose.

"Shhhhh, princess. Everyone else is asleep."

A whisper at my ear. "I'll be quiet, Daddy. I promise." She took her arms back and in one motion had removed her nightshirt. She had nothing on underneath. She moved away to the side of the bed, obviously making room for me.

"Stephanie. Sweetheart. I didn't..." The shine of her wide eyes in the dim cut me off. What else could she possibly assume? I recalled the day I'd left her standing alone in the hall at the pool. Not this time. I slid into bed beside her but kept my boxers on. She unwound and pressed against me, a weightless hand at my hip.

"I'm ready, Daddy." _Oh God._ My cock heard her even as my ears did. She lifted her knee and slid it over my thigh.

I had to close my eyes for a moment and gather my thoughts. Touched my finger to her lips gently. "You're perfect, princess. Perfect enough to wait. We don't have to rush into anything. We have to... we have to..."

What did we have to do, exactly? I thought I'd planned out precisely what I was going to say, about how we had to stop the things we'd been doing, at least for now, to let things settle, and let Mommy catch up with us somehow, though I didn't really know what that meant.

Her hand was in the fly of my boxers, searching and finding and ever so gently gripping and ever so slowly tugging. So much for the speech.

"Things are... changing, sweetheart. With Mommy. You know." I swallowed.

"Ya. It's all okay now."

"Well. It's better. But it's still too soon for her to know about... this. We have to be careful. You have to let me help her understand."

The tugging paused. "She'd be mad still."

"I don't know, Stephanie. I hope not... but she needs time to get used to how things are now. Do you understand?"

I thought I saw her nod through the darkness.

"So you won't say anything to her... about us... please."

"Okay." A long pause. "But... can we still..."

I slid my hand between her legs. Downy warm smooth soft slightly slick. The tugging resumed. We both managed to stay quiet, for the most part.

#### Chapter LVIII (Carol)

Perhaps I should have been unsettled, or even frightened. Those instincts seemed to have been sublimated by something even more primal. I'd experienced the fear of losing my family, a deep, shuddering emptiness that sucked my usually rational mind into dark places. First with the girls, feeling them slipping away. Then with Rick, a sense of looking at him at a distance from my island of shame. We were all together now, sharing everything. After the abject terror of being alone, the perversity of our closeness seemed only to strengthen our bonds. We were in a new normal, comfortable if strange, and just for us. Fuck the rest.

I brought a pile of clean laundry to Stephanie's room. Her door was open. She was reading on her bed, headphones plugged into her iPod. Tshirt and underpants. Cozy. She smiled at me before returning her attention to her book. Her hand between her legs, over her panties, causually caressing herself. She didn't stop. A subtle glow on her neck, which seemed longer that it was the last time I'd looked.

"What are you listening to, love bug?"

She shrugged, indicating that she couldn't hear me. I gave her a motherly look and mimed taking off the headphones. She did, grudgingly.

"What are you listening to?"

"Nothing now since I hadda talk to you." A few weeks ago her tone would have been acerbic. Today it was playful. I raised my eyebrows patiently. She handed me the headset and I put one earpiece over my ear.

_'Cause the stars are dull when they're compared to you and I  
And if people don't like it then they can close their eyes  
'Cause we're not the same and we don't have to try  
We're brighter than fireflies, we're gonna light the sky_

How is it that the music we hear so often strikes a chord with what we're feeling? I suppose that's the magic of it. I sat on the edge of the bed. Pushed back her hair with one hand and let the other rest on her pale thigh. She moved her hand to her hip, uncertain.

"No more hiding, sweetpea. No more shame. Just for us, for our family. It's beautiful. You're beautiful."

Her eyes dropped. "Not like you."

"Not exactly. But so like me when I was your age."

She laid her miniature hand atop mine on her leg and squeezed. "One time Daddy said he couldn't tell us apart. I know it was a joke but I liked it."

"You father is gifted with a silver tongue," I said.

At this her eyes darted to mine and then away, her cheeks suddenly reddened. Her hand shot to her mouth but an eruption of giggles still exploded around it.

"What is it? Did I say something funny?"

Quick shake of her head. "No. Nothing."

"Something about Daddy?"

Another shake. More giggles.

"Something about..." _Oh. Fuck._ I took her chin in my hand, but not angrily. "Something about his tongue."

She rolled over and buried her face in her pillow, laughing uncontrollably. I shouldn't have been surprised, given our recent conversation about my oral intimacy with her father. I swatted her bottom.

"Owwwwww," she chortled.

"No more time with Andrea for you. You got that from her, didn't you?"

Her laughing slowed. She didn't say anything. I sighed. "Please slow down, Stephanie. You've got your whole life."

I put the laundry into her drawers and left the door open on my way out.

**************************

It seemed I had a new sense of confidence. When we next encountered Gale at the pool, she nodded to me tentatively and started to walk by without speaking. I didn't feel threatened by her anymore. I smiled inwardly and stopped her with a gesture.

"Hello, Gale."

She spoke to us from a safe distance. "Hi, Carol. And Stephanie. And... Caroline, right? How could I forget. After her mother." She was charming even when she was at arm's length.

"Hi Gale," said Stephanie. I was a little surprised to hear the first name, but I wasn't sure that even I knew Gale's last name.

I cleared my throat. "I wanted to say I'm sorry if I was short with you the other day. We were in a bit of a rush..."

"Oh please. No need to explain. You're a mom. Busy much? I can't even imagine. You're completely fine."

"Thanks. I know the girls were interested in maybe taking a lesson."

Caroline's eyes lit up immediately. Stephanie seemed more reserved but nodded. Gale turned on the neon incisors.

"I'd be delighted. The office has my schedule. The first session is free so that I can assess them and they can decide if they like it."

To my surprise, Stephanie chewed her lip. Gale bent down and spoke to her directly.

"What do you think, Stephanie?"

Stephanie looked at Gale a little oddly. Perhaps she'd sensed my earlier reluctance. "My Mom said maybe she would teach us."

 _That's my girl,_ I thought. _I'm not losing you._

Gale straightened. "Of course. I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Why not give it a try, Steph?" I offered. "I'll teach you what I can, but I imagine Gale can teach you a lot more."

There was a satisfying pause before my eldest said, "Okay." The shine from Gale's teeth almost forced me to shade my eyes.

#### Chapter LIX (Stephanie)

Things were happening so fast. It was good and scary. Some good good. Some good scary. Mostly good scary. Some just scary scary.

The good good was the stuff with Mommy. It was so nice being friends with her again. I knew she wanted to be with us and that she wanted to be with me just like she wanted to with Caroline.

The stuff with Daddy was good scary. He came to my room just like Gale said. I know I kinda asked him to but he did it and I was scared but I would have let him do anything. Anything anything anything. He knows what to do and he says wait but I don't really know what to wait for or how to wait. But I will, best I can.

The scary scary is that Mommy still doesn't know and I don't want her to be mad and hate me. So I'm not going to tell. Daddy will make it okay. I think. I hope.

The other scary scary is Gale. Sometimes when I think about her it's good scary. But she knows about Daddy and me and even about Mommy and Caroline and I know I shouldn't have told her and I feel really bad about it. And I was scared that if I said I didn't want lessons with her that she'd be mad and do something to hurt us. I could get her in trouble too but maybe they wouldn't believe me. I think she's nice really so I don't think she'd be mean. She understands about me and Daddy. And I still think about what she did and every time I do it makes me put my hand in my underpants. Even though it was scary.

Sometimes I get tired of thinking all this and I just want to do things. Good scary things. But then I think more, and I don't do the things. Mostly.

#### Chapter LX (Rick)

There are moments, and there are moments. Many pass unheeded and unremarked and unremembered. Some stay with you forever. Hopefully the ones that stay are good ones. Usually the difference is clear. Strangely enough, I wasn't completely sure if this particular moment would turn out to be very good or very bad in the long run. I was however entirely sure that it wouldn't ever be forgotten.

My eyes opened. Monday morning. I looked at the clock, fully expecting to see it show precisely seven fifteen. I blinked and looked again. Six fifty-five. And next to the clock, an utterly naked nine-year-old.

I pulled back the covers and she climbed in. I wrapped us up in warm blankets and tangled our arms.

"It's early, sweet pea. What's up?"

Her hand in the obvious place. "You." The evidence supported her statement.

"Well yes. We know that already."

"Kiss me."

I did, for a while. Our hands were active. Warm soft smooth and achy needy stiffness. Then the moment.

My daughter's hand on my neck. The back of my neck. A subtle but unmistakable pull. I thought I understood and lowered my lips to her boyish chest, teased a flat nipple with my tongue until it tightened to the sharpest of points. She shivered elegantly.

Her hand was still on my neck. Now pushing. In a downward direction. I looked up. Her eyes were closed. More pushing. She rolled onto her back and kicked the covers off.

I kissed the smooth plane of her tummy. Ten little touches of my lips, orbiting the shallow well of her navel. Her intent was clear, but I craved her silent insistence. The growing urgency of her demand was as compelling to me as the act itself. Her hand on my head, pushing me lower. Her knees lifted... a flower opening in anticipation of a morning summer rain.

I am a mortal man, and a sinner. I gave myself over to her, my entire being tangled on her slender fingers as they splayed in my hair. Astonishing delicacy met my lips and tongue. I explored her every nuance before applying myself more directly, my eyes locked on the rapture of her face. A gasp escaped her as I encased the tiny nub in a suckle, slow and steady, patient and purposeful even as her hips lifted to seek my mouth. When she tensed I let my buried tongue take the pulse of her climax, her quim instinctively milking, her tummy rolling in subtle waves. My nose rested at her cleft and inhaled forever, staying long past the fade of her release. Eventually I laid my head on her chest and stared at the clock until it flashed seven-thirty.

"I knew you'd be good at that, Daddy."

"Hmmm?" I was still quite incapable of making sounds that could be interpreted as words.

"Mommy said you got a silver tongue."

I was able to arch my eyebrows in alarm. "Errrmmm?"

She squealed with laughter as she ran down the hall. My many questions would need to wait until I was coherent. Caroline blinked and watched her sister pass from the door of the bathroom. With a yawn and a shrug, her usual concise insight emerged. "Everybody's naked these days."

#### Chapter LXI (Rick)

In my dream I was sliding down a muddy slope, desperately kicking and clutching to slow my descent. I couldn't see very far ahead, but somehow I knew that there was a cliff rushing up to meet me... that I had to stop before going over the edge...

On waking I chided myself. Was this really the most original symbology my subconscious could muster? Not very subtle. However hackneyed my nocturnal visions, I got the message. This was the time to be the most careful. I consciously didn't look at Stephanie. Carol was leading us as we gradually explored our new closeness. This journey felt natural, an inevitable extension of openness and love and acceptance. As far as Carol knew, I was only slightly more than an observer - now admittedly an interested one. Everything somehow fit into our evolving definition of normal.

Meanwhile, my mind was increasingly unable to operate in its accustomed, rational way. The subtle but essential taste of her. The gentle but compelling scent. These things dominated my thoughts.

The girls didn't make it any easier. Our daughters had seemingly adopted a new, minimalist dress code. Often they didn't bother to put clothes on after a bath or shower. Carol seemed fine with this, to a point. When Caroline came to the dinner table starkers, she was patiently sent to put on some shorts and a shirt. Breakfast tended to be more casual, often eaten shirtless. Fortunately Stephanie had taken to heart what I'd said when I'd visited her in the night. She was often casually under-dressed but didn't go out of her way to provoke me.

Carol and I had talked wistfully about how the girls argued and fought, often over the most trivial things. We hoped that they'd find common ground, things that they could share and do together. Another case where one should be careful about wishes.

A quiet Saturday afternoon. For once we weren't running off to activities. It was chilly and damp outside, a perfect day to stay home a cocoon. Things were so quiet that I felt the need to put down the paper I was grading and investigate.

Carol was in the hall outside of Stephanie's door. This time it wasn't closed. As I approached, she put her finger to her lips. I slipped up behind her and looked over her shoulder into the bedroom. Our daughters were on the bed together, stripped to their underpants, tangled in a heap.

"Not like that," said Stephanie. "That's how babies kiss. You're supposed to open your mouth."

"How come?"

"So I can put my tongue in."

"No way."

"Ya way. That's how you're supposed to."

"Who says?"

"Everybody that's not a baby. Just do it."

Stephanie had her back to us. Caroline was focused on her sister, so we were unobserved. I let my hands wander over Carol's chest. She leaned back, letting me know that this was okay.

The kiss was awkward in ways that made it sweet and intimate. Caroline's expression spun a kaleidoscope of feelings, jumbled shards of curiosity and mild disgust and surprise. Stephanie guided her with her lips, taking tiny soft bites, movements I silently recognized, movements she'd learned from me.

Stephanie's hand moved from Caroline's hip to the front of her underpants. Caroline paused and drew back a little. "Don't stop kissing," said my eldest. The little one closed her eyes. Stephanie slid her hand up to her sister's tummy and then down into her panties. Caroline's bottom squirmed. I lifted the back of Carol's dress. Her gasp was muted when my fingers found the heat and wetness that I knew would be there.

By now we knew the soft noises. Stephanie was tentative at first, then gently insistent. Caroline let her head fall back and her sister just watched her face. Carol and I were similarly enraptured by the glow of her small, blissful visage. She trembled as my own fingers moved with more intent. Her hand reached back and found its way into my sweatpants. Her sure grip made it clear that she wasn't surprised by my evident arousal.

"Do you want to do mine?" Stephanie's voice was a whisper. Caroline peeked through a slit of her eyelids and her miniature hand moved. Stephanie sat up slightly... tugged Caroline's panties down to her knees and then pushed her own down to her ankles. In a instant they were tangled again, arms intersecting between their smooth tummies, fingers active in tender mutual fondling.

Stephanie's more practiced touch soon drew a deep shiver from her sister's slender frame... a small sharp breath... an unwinding into a floppy puddle of blissful little girl. "I felt it," the elder said. "Did you feel it? Inside?"

Caroline nodded, her hand now idle between Stephanie's legs. The older girl covered it with her own hand.

"I'll do mine. Just put your finger in so you can feel it."

"In?"

"Ya. You know. In."

Caroline looked skeptical but wriggled a small finger into her sister's cleft. Stephanie attacked herself with purposeful urgency. Carol and I were locked into our own mutual embrace. I bit her ear and felt her knees go weak. Stephanie turn onto her back, her eyes closed in fervent concentration. Caroline laid her cheek on her sister's flat chest, watching and touching. Her eyes wandered, and saw us.

Her mouth opened. I quickly raised a finger to my lips. It was too late to stop the giggle but she was able to refrain from saying anything. Stephanie kept her eyes closed and misinterpreted the titter. "Shut up. This is how you do it right."

Caroline watched her parents. It was impossible for her not to see my hand moving under Carol's dress. My wife's active grasp of my cock was obscured by her body. As Stephanie's back arched and her lithe body stiffened, I came hard in my wife's hand. Carol trembled, her own body responding in turn, her shoulder slumped against the wall.

Caroline couldn't contain herself any longer. "Hi Mommy. Hi Daddy." A cascade of giggles.

Stephanie's eyes flew open. Blinked as they focused on us.

"They did sex. They watched us and they did sex." Our youngest, succinct and accurate.

Stephanie swallowed, her cheeks cherry red, clearly unsure how to react. I met her stare, feeling nothing but impossible adoration. Her eyes flashed an instant of befuddled anger. Mine pleaded. Hers slowly relented.

Carol's voice was surprisingly calm and clear. My cheek against hers, I felt her smile. "I'm so proud of you. Both of you," she said.

"Huh?" said Stephanie. They were confused. I was too.

"You were so kind to each other. So caring. It was lovely to see. That made us... happy."

"Happy?" said Stephanie, her eyebrows arched.

"Yes," said my wife, in the tone that we all knew meant 'Just let it go, please.' "Very... happy."

It was a tense moment before Stephanie snorted. Carol covered her mouth with her hand as she gave in to the laughter. Caroline decided it was okay too and joined the chorus. I breathed. Perhaps it was okay, as impossible as it seemed. We were gradually defining a common language to express our new normal. I snuck away before the girls could see the rather enormous stain on my pants.

#### Chapter LXII (Carol)

I tend to process difficult things at night while sleeping. My first thoughts on waking are often my clearest. The answers to thorny problems suddenly seem obvious, literal and figurative scales falling from my eyes all at once.

In the back of my mind I'd been trying to unravel the mystery of my eldest daughter. Her curiosity about boys didn't really seem to be about boys. Mainly it seemed to be about sex. This was more worrying than if she'd just had a grade school crush on someone in her class. The nursery rhyme echoed in my head. _First comes love, then comes marriage..._ I hoped that she wasn't putting the physical cart before the emotional horse.

I'd asked her about the boy for whom she cut her shorts. She'd said he was 'older.' It was a delicate time between us, so I didn't press. I wouldn't have wanted to talk to my mother about Rick when I was ten. Still, I was intensely curious. If Stephanie had kept a diary, I might well have succumbed to the temptation to snoop.

But as I opened my eyes one sunny morning, all the pieces fell into place. In retrospect it should have been clear all along. There wasn't any boy. Stephanie was in love with her father.

This happens, of course. The male of the species is inscrutable and often frightening, even when attractive. Or especially when attractive. But your father is safe and close and available and loving. Cozy and open can become something more. Had I ever felt that? I suppose I had in a vague way. Daddy's hand on my bottom when we innocently snuggled was somehow different when I was nine, though I had no notion of what that subtle warmth might mean. Then I met Rick. Perhaps I transferred any nascent feelings to him before they'd become more visceral.

The tension I'd felt from Stephanie over the last few months took on a new light. It made more sense now. She was jealous, even if she didn't consciously recognize it. She was also angry at my absence and my attention to her sister. This was the more obvious way to interpret her hostility and it masked the underlying issue. Fortunately her anxiety seemed to pass as she and I grew closer again.

As troubling as it was, her emotional state might be the easy part. She was now apparently thinking of her relationship with her father in sexual terms. I couldn't avoid feeling that I had myself to blame for this. I should have known, but now I did. Thank goodness that my lovely husband also seemed blind to her feelings. In many ways, he was still the innocent goofball that I fell in love with so long ago.

She'd seen me, on my knees, my mouth around Rick's cock. She'd asked me why I did it. How it tasted. _Daddy looked really happy._ I reflected on my answers, and her reaction. My tummy tightened as I reran the words. Without a doubt she had imagined herself there, in my place. Even in the sunlit clarity of morning, I had no idea how to think about that.

**************************

"Stephanie saw me sucking your cock."

We were in bed, getting ready to sleep. Rick put his book down.

"Oh," he said, unhelpfully. Then, after a moment, "Crap."

I watched him, unsure how to gauge his reaction. He seemed concerned but not particularly surprised.

"Did you know? Did you see her?" I had to ask.

He chewed his lip. "If it's the time I think you mean... I guess I might have heard her. Her feet. On the floor in the hall. But when I opened my eyes..." He shook his head slightly.

I nodded. I'd heard her too. The small bare feet. Slap slap slap on the hardwood. Running from something she didn't want to see, didn't want to know.

"She asked me about it. Why I did it. What it... tastes like."

"Oh crap." He touched my shoulder. "What did you say?"

A tiny chuckle escaped me. "I said it tastes like you."

"Clever girl. You and her both, I mean."

My stern glance told him that we weren't going to make light of this. He understood and retrenched. "I'm... I'm sorry, Carol... Is she okay? Are you? Are... things... okay?"

"I suppose so. But you need to understand, Rick. She's in love with you, the way maybe only a daughter can be in love with her father. And with what I've told her, and done... well, she's thinking about that in lots of ways."

He was quiet, processing. " _In love._ You mean..."

"Yes. Like I loved you when I was ten. I think she has for some time, but I just pieced it together. When she cut up her clothes... that was for you, not for some boy. When you didn't respond, when you told her it was inappropriate, she was disappointed. Angry, even. I should have seen it then. She doesn't really understand her feelings, I'm sure. But it was part of why she was so upset with me."

"So that's why she asked you about..."

"The blowjob. Yes, I'm pretty sure. She said you looked happy."

"I was. I am." He looked at his hands. "I... don't know what to say. Or do."

I spoke slowly. "Me neither. Except that we won't let it ruin us. We won't let her be hurt because of it."

"Of course not. I won't... encourage her."

I shook my head. "She'll sense your distance, Rick. Don't make her feel... unwanted."

"Unwanted?"

"You know what I mean."

He tensed. "I'm not sure I do, Carol."

His reaction made me consider why I'd chosen that particular word. He was right. There was something to it. "She thought I didn't want her. She thought I didn't like her as much as I liked Caroline... because..."

"Oh." His expression was helpless. I understood just how he felt.

"Just don't change the way you are with her. Don't punish her for her feelings by withdrawing." As I said this, I knew the essential truth of it. We stay together. No space between us. It wasn't possible at that moment to consider the full implications.

He kissed my forehead. "But, yesterday..."

"Yesterday was yesterday. Tomorrow is tomorrow. I don't know any more about tomorrow than you do. All I need to know is that we'll be together."

"We will be." His truth, our truth.

I fed on his certainty. "Then it will be okay." I took his hand and pressed it to my mouth. Kissed it softly. We slept.

#### Chapter LXIII (Rick)

I knew that my very perceptive spouse would get to the truth sooner or later. It wasn't possible for the intense feelings running through our household to go entirely unobserved.

So why didn't I take this opportunity to come clean about my relationship with Stephanie? I confess that I am a coward. I also know Carol very well. Her bravery astonished me, but it was far too dangerous to assume that she would accept my tongue between Stephanie's legs as an obvious extension of our recent openness. Carol touched the girls. I had touched Caroline. As far as Carol knew, the girls had not touched either of us in an explicitly sexual way. Caroline's suckling was an act of comfort, a remembrance of past closeness.

The safe choice would be to put a cap on my activities with Stephanie, to be satisfied with our cuddles, our bliss. But despite the risk, I wasn't willing or able to give up what we were sharing. Having had a taste of more (sorry, yes, I went there), I couldn't imagine either Stephanie or I managing to contain ourselves to occasional fondling.

Recent developments hinted at a path forward that might save us all from the likely trauma of a grand reveal. We seemed to be stepping down a path. Perhaps Carol could lead us to the promised land in her own way, at her own pace. I could hold her hand as we jumped to each new flagstone.

I imagined that in the path ahead there were places where the stones were far apart, where the leap could be too far to make together, where we'd risk falling into the abyss and losing everything. For the moment I chose to let those chasms remain unconsidered, to be crossed when we came to them. Analogies are there to be stretched.

Apparently swimming lessons were now a thing we did. Of course we wanted the girls to be safe around the water. The schedule made our weekends a bit more complicated. We were feeling close again as a family, so the fragmentation seemed manageable. Selfishly, it also gave me more access to my eldest daughter. This particular morning, I was taking Stephanie to the pool while Carol was on soccer duty with Caroline.

In the car, Stephanie looked at me a little sheepishly. There was a conversation that had been lingering over us for a few days, our busy schedules never affording us the right time and place.

"Stephanie." I intended to be serious. It was difficult when she was looking at me.

"Daddy." She mimicked my tone, gently. She knew that this was often how Serious Discussions started.

I couldn't help but smile. I put my hand on her knee and she turned to face me. I think she'd anticipated the question.

"How did you know..." I started. I paused. She knew to what I was referring.

"Everybody knows, Daddy. And I saw Mommy... doing that... so I looked it up. And then Andrea said..."

"You told me that Andrea doesn't know anything."

"Andrea has an iPhone, Daddy."

"Oh." This remained a point of contention in our household. "Umm. What did you look up, exactly?"

"Sex with your mouth."

"Right. That... makes sense." As much as anything made sense lately. "So..."

"I read about it. And there's the boy stuff and the girl stuff. When I read about the girl stuff, it made me... you know. It's weird but I couldn't stop thinking about it and... you know."

I blinked and swallowed. "I know."

"Is it okay, Daddy? That I made you do that?"

"You didn't make me, Stephanie. I was more than willing. Just... you know... we have to be careful."

"Cuz it's different. I get it, Daddy." She was quiet for a time, looking out the window. "You like doing that?"

"I love doing that, princess. Most of all, I loved the joy I saw in you."

Her cheeks glowed softly. "You do it with Mommy?"

Not long before, this sort of question would have bee a source of deep anxiety for her and for me. It seemed we'd reached a different place. I sensed she was mostly curious, not mainly jealous.

"Yes."

"I guess she likes it."

"She does."

"Cuz you're good at it." A soft giggle.

"Did you... talk to her about that?" Now we were in awkward territory.

"No." I waited. She understood my silence and clarified. "I mean, not really. She said you got a silver tongue cuz of how you talk and I thought of it and I laughed. She did too. She wasn't mad or anything. I couldn't help it. I guess I think about it... a lot. Not just that part. Everything. Everything that we do."

I couldn't help it. My hand moved with a mind of its own, up her leg and to her tummy and then down, under the waistband of her shorts, into the warm smooth soft. No underpants. Her grin. Her knees spreading, instant invitation. I held her there for a long moment before regaining my senses. My hand withdrew reluctantly, chafing in its forced servitude to my brain.

"Do you want me to pull down my pants, Daddy?"

 _Fuck._ "We're in the car, Stephanie."

"Duh? I know." I'd tried to teach the girls to move beyond the obvious in their observations. Shame on me for breaking the rule.

I shook my head but couldn't verbalize. She didn't make it easier.

"I will if you want me to."

"I know. I want you to. But we won't."

A small pout. "Cuz... careful."

I nodded. We sighed in chorus.

**************************

Gale flashed her alabaster incisors when we met her at the edge of the pool. I watched for a bit as she went through a basic assessment with Stephanie. The woman brought just the right balance of friendliness and professionalism to her work, something that I recognized and appreciated in a fellow educator. Gale gave me the occasional reassuring look as my daughter kicked and stroked.

Stephanie seemed unusually shy and tentative at the start. In the first few minutes she glanced at me a bit anxiously. I smiled and nodded my approval. When she'd relaxed and turned her attention more to Gale, I left them to swim laps, confident that I was leaving her in good hands.

#### Chapter LXIV (Stephanie)

How come it feels good to be bad sometimes? I wonder if it makes me a bad person if I feel that way. Like when I tease Caroline. That's bad since it hurts her feelings. I know it is but I do anyways. Not so much now, I guess. She's almost a person now.

I wanted to pull down my pants in the car. Daddy put his hand in and I could tell he was looking at me. I wanted him to look at me twice. I guess it's good that he said don't. I don't want to get in trouble. But I really wanted to, even if everybody saw me. Weird.

I was thinking about Daddy and I was thinking about Gale too, since we were going to my lesson. Good scary and scary scary. She was nice and Daddy was there watching so it was okay. Then Daddy went away and things changed.

We were still in the pool and I was holding onto the side and she was next to me and she said, "I scared you, I think. I'm so sorry, Stephanie. I can tell that you're afraid with me now. I didn't mean to."

I didn't know what to say. I hoped maybe we'd just forget the stuff that happened. "It's okay," I said.

"I can see how much you love each other," she said. I just nodded. "It made me remember... my Daddy, my times with him. They were so precious to me. I guess I got carried away. I hope we can still be friends?" She sounded sad.

"Okay," I said.

"I'm glad." She seemed happier then. I thought about how she told me her secret. How it felt to have somebody else know when it's all jumbled up inside and wants to come out. She must feel that too. I felt kinda bad about being scared.

I whispered. "He did that. To me."

Her eyes got big. "Did what, sweetheart?"

"You know. With his mouth. Like you."

"Oh. Goodness." She touched my hair. "Did he now. Did he. That's... did you..."

I knew what she meant. It was kinda funny that she couldn't say it. "Ya. A lot."

"That's so special, Stephanie. I remember... the first time... oh my. You know that feeling, when you remember the special times? You feel it almost like it's happening again."

I nodded. "You feel it... there, don't you?" she said. Her hand was between my legs, under the water. I looked around. Nobody was looking. Daddy was over at the other side swimming. "I do too." Her hand under the water took my hand and put it between her legs. It was warm and slippery even outside her suit. "We're alike, you and I. We understand each other. Don't we?"

She held my hand there and pressed it against her and she closed her eyes for a second. Then she opened them and took her hand back. It was like Daddy in the car, like she forgot there were other people and then remembered. I left my hand where she put it. It was neat to know that I made her that way.

"You like making him happy, don't you?"

"Ya."

"We're alike that way too. I loved making my Daddy happy. How he smiled at me."

"Ya." I was breathing fast and couldn't think of anything else to say. It was right, what she was saying.

"I did anything. To make him happy. Anything."

I looked down. There was a splashing noise close by. I took my hand back. She moved away. We finished the lesson and Daddy came back and we walked back together. He talked to Gale and she said I did great, that maybe I could even do racing with more practice. That sounds hard.

When we got to the Family Changing Room, Gale and Daddy stopped walking. Daddy looked like he didn't know what to do. Maybe he thought Gale shouldn't know we went there. But she already knew, so I pulled on his hand and he came with me.

After the car and the pool I felt like I was on fire down there. I got my suit off and Daddy was watching me and I sat on the bench and just started doing it. Then Daddy was on the floor and he didn't even say anything and he put my legs over his shoulders and he put his mouth there and he held me and he didn't stop and he didn't stop and his scratchy chin was on my bottom and I squeezed and squeezed inside like it was forever. And he watched my face and when I couldn't take it anymore I wiggled and he stopped. And he picked me up and hugged me and carried me to the shower.

He was all stiff and I thought about what Gale said and how he made me happy and how I wanted him to be happy and I remembered me and Mommy in the shower, so I washed him. I took the soap and got my hands all slippery and I washed him with both hands, up and down and faster and faster and I watched his face and it went all over me, all over my chest and my tummy and I didn't mind since the water washed it all off. And he hugged me and kissed my forehead and he said I was perfect and we were the warmest and happiest ever.

#### Chapter LXV (Rick)

Strange as it may seem, it was still difficult for me to be explicit in how I thought about Stephanie. She was my daughter, just nine. In most ways that hadn't changed at all. I loved her as my child with unadulterated Platonic passion. In those moments, sexual thoughts were remote. I sublimated my deeper perversity, keeping it safe in its compartment.

That day was the first time that I'd really allowed my hunger for her to run freely in my mind. When she tugged my hand, led me to the Family Changing Room with clear intent, I knew then that I wanted nothing else in the world but to bury my tongue into her astonishing smooth soft nine-year-old quim, to bring her off as much as she could stand it. I let myself imagine even more. The obscenity of these thoughts would have frightened me just a few weeks before. Now this need was nothing but essential, nothing but compelling.

It was enough for me to soak in her radiated pleasure, looking up at her over the flat expanse of her tummy and chest. But my daughter surprised me yet again, a sly grin as she soaped her small hands, no words spoken, just firm insistent scrubbing of my almost painful hardness. That her tiny self knew what she wanted and knew how to get it and simply did this made it all the more obscene and essential and compelling. She giggled when her demand was met, as I coated her, watched as the warm spray streamed my seed down her body, over her mons, milky trails off her miniature toes.

At that instant, it became forever impossible for me to keep my Stephanies separate. In our intimacy, my mind would still see her dressed for school, arguing with her mother over her persistent lack of a phone and how this was destroying her life. In our family times, I would close my eyes and see her standing in the shower, in the Family Changing Room, her face triumphant, and hear her soft, accepting chortle as my cock erupted in her purposeful grip.

We left the Family Changing Room that day in a haze of bliss. Our chat was subdued and normal. What was for lunch? We didn't really care.

Gale met us on the way out. The smile stopped us in our tracks. She laid her hand on Stephanie's hair.

"We'll see you next Saturday?"

"Ahuh."

"That's great. I'll look forward to it."

I thought we were done. "Rick. Could I have a word?" She looked down at Stephanie. "Just for a minute. I'll give him back, I promise." Stephanie bit her lip, suddenly anxious. My stomach tightened.

"It's okay, sweetpea. I'll be right back." I followed Gale to an office next to the locker rooms. Stephanie watched us go, shifting her weight between her feet. This didn't help my sense that something was wrong.

Gale closed the door behind us. She paused for a moment. I could tell that she was nervous too. Her eyes darted. I waited.

Finally, "She's a remarkable girl, your Stephanie."

"Yes." Another pause. "What is this about, Gale?"

"We've had some good talks, she and I. You know. Like girls do."

I felt my temperature rise, some mix of terror and anger.

"Have you now."

"Yes. We're quite alike, as it turns out."

"Is that so?"

Her gaze settled on me, met mine directly. "I understand her, Rick. Better than you might imagine."

I was beginning to form an idea of what she was saying. Even this vague understanding sharpened my mind and let me contain my rising panic. Better to keep quiet, I decided. I tried to moderate my breathing.

After a deep breath, she folded her hands in front of her. Her voice was quite steady.

"I just want you to know. To hear me, and to know. If you hurt her, I'll destroy you."

#### Chapter LXVI (Rick)

"If you hurt her, I'll destroy you."

They say we have a fast brain and a slow brain. The fast brain is the one we've inherited from our earliest reptilian ancestors. It manages our base instincts, protects us from danger by pumping our bodies with adrenaline, prepares us for fight or flight. I was experiencing primal terror like that of an ancient ancestor locked in the silent, hungry stare of a lion whose eyes have emerged from the high amber grass, grass that matches the beast's tawny coat perfectly, the predator invisible until it's close enough that we feel its hot panting breath.

The slow brain is the logical, rational one. It takes time to engage and respond. But in a moment of panic, it's easily overwhelmed by the flood of chemicals pumped into our animal bodies by our automatic response to a threat. I instantly needed to run away, or throttle Gale's neck, or both. Over several seconds of silence, my slow brain caught up enough to convince me that none of these options would improve the situation.

"Why would you think that I'd ever hurt my daughter?" In my head, my voice was steady, my tone incredulous. My constricted throat instead allowed only the tremulous passage of my fear.

Gale's eyes softened. "I don't think you'd intend to, Rick. I can see how you feel about her. How she feels about you. I recognize it, you see. I know about this. And I know how it can turn out."

"I don't know what you mean." I did, of course.

Gale took a deep breath. "I guess I'll speak plainly. You and Stephanie are lovers. You're having sex with her. Not intercourse. Not yet. But you're on that path, and quite far down it already."

I raised my hand to stop her. She raised her own. "Don't bother," she continued. "She told me, in some detail. Girls talk, Rick. It's something that men find hard to understand. You licked her for the first time recently. From the look on your faces today, it seems likely that you just did it again in the Family Changing Room."

I found her words and manner incongruous. Gale said these incendiary things in a tone that I'd associate with a cop who was working up to give a stern warning rather than a speeding ticket.

"I can't imagine why Stephanie would say anything like that," I managed.

"Well yes. You wouldn't expect her to tell. Not to a relative stranger, certainly. I confess. I made it impossible for her not to tell me. I knew. It's obvious from the way your eyes stare through her clothes. So I told her a little of my story. She needed someone to confide in, someone who would understand what she's going through. Once she saw that I truly understood, the words came flooding out of her. Don't be angry with her, Rick. I gave her no option. You can blame me."

"I will. Blame you." Anger was now competing with terror as my dominant emotion, triggering a new cycle of lizard-brain reactions.

Gale smiled. "Yes. We're the adults, aren't we? We're the responsible ones, charged with the care of our children, expected to make the right choices. I know what choices you've made. Believe it or not, I'm not judging you for those choices. But I will judge you for what you choose next."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Yes. I'm sorry." Her eyes fell. "This is the hard part, for me." She swallowed. "I was her, you see. When I was her age. Even younger. Caroline's age."

I seized on this, pulled the thread. "Gale. If you're saying that you were abused as a child, I'm very sorry to hear that. To project that onto me and my family... that's..."

"Rick. Please. Listen. I think you know that in my position, I'm technically obligated to report anything like this that comes to my attention. Have I done that? I have not."

Slow brain said: _Shut up. The less you say the better._

My silence invited her to continue. "I was told that I should have hated my father for it. But I didn't. That it must have damaged me terribly. But it didn't. What damaged me in horrible ways, what took years to deal with... that happened when he lost interest in me and turned to my sister. I was 13. She was 8. My father and I were lovers, like you and Stephanie. Or so I thought. But he left me."

I saw her tremble. "He left me and I knew it had all been a lie, that it had all been about the sex, that all he wanted was a child and any child would do. It wasn't me that he loved. It was my undeveloped body. When it changed, he changed. He left me. That's what I hate him for. That's why I told on him. That's why I broke up my family."

A small pool was forming on the desk where Gale stood, running from her downturned cheeks.

"Please... don't do that to Stephanie. She is desperately in love with you, feeling things that only a daughter can feel. You're her entire world. I think you love her. I have that sense of you, that you're not just a pedophile using her out of convenience. I hope I'm right. If I'm wrong, I'll do anything I can to make things go badly for you. That's all."

"That's all?" It didn't seem possible that that was all.

"Yes. That's it."

I was beginning to think more clearly. It seemed there was no immediate, life-or-death threat. Still, the implications were horrific.

"I'm not molesting my daughter." This wasn't about her believing me. It was about establishing a narrative.

"She wouldn't describe it that way either."

I shook my head. "You know that's not what I mean."

"I know that's what you feel you need to say right now, Rick." She paused. "I suppose I could give you one more thing. A gift that I could trust you with, so that you can better appreciate what I've said."

"I can't imagine what that would be." I didn't want to imagine what that could be.

She met my gaze. "She blinks when she cums. Her eyelids flutter. It's an exquisite thing. Her toes curl, tiny little fists."

I recognized my daughter in her words. My anger flared to the border of rage. I felt it in the heat of my face. It flowed in the tremor of my voice.

"So you... with her..."

"I've said what I'm going to say. I expect she would have told you anyway, but perhaps you'll trust me more since I offered it first. What I can do to you, you can do to me. We can destroy each other. I won't hesitate to protect her if I think she needs protecting, even if it means bad things for me."

"Protect her from what?"

"Not from your cock." She looked away. "Sorry. I don't mean to be obscene, but I need you to understand. I loved my father's cock. I think she's on her way to loving yours. She already loves the feelings you give her. The closeness, the need. She's a sexual being now. I'm not telling you to stay away from her. I'm telling you to stay close to her. Just don't violate her trust the way mine was violated."

"What about protecting her from you?"

Her head dropped. A long silence. "You could choose to never let her see me again. That would make me very sad. It would make me wonder what you're hiding. You'd also have to explain it to Stephanie, and to Carol. That could be awkward. Even risky. How much does your wife know, I wonder?"

"There's nothing for her to know."

She shrugged. "As you say. We needn't be enemies, Rick. Or rivals. You might even consider how I might help you get what you want. I hope you believe me when I say that I understand something about what your daughter wants."

"What I want is for this conversation to have never happened."

"Bit late for that."

I left the room and swept Stephanie into my arms, carried her to the car on my hip as I would have when she was tiny.

#### Chapter LXVII (Stephanie)

I was dying inside, right there in the hall at the pool. I saw them talking through a window in the room. I couldn't hear but I could tell by how they looked. They were talking about me.

I wanted to run away. I thought about it. Out the door and through the parking lot and into the woods and never ever coming back. I'd starve and freeze and die but I deserved it. I ruined everything.

When he picked me up all I could say was, "Please don't hate me Daddy... Please don't hate me..."

All I could think was, _I'll do anything. Anything anything anything._

#### Chapter LXVIII (Rick)

"I could never hate you, Stephanie. Not in any way, not ever, not for a second."

My eldest was clinging tight to my neck as we stood beside our car, her small face buried in my shirt, her frame wracked with sobs. She wouldn't let me put her down. "We can't talk about this in the parking lot, sweetheart."

Finally her grip loosened and she allowed me to lower her into the passenger seat. She immediately curled up into a ball, hugging her knees to her chest. My heart raced and broke and hurt and stopped and raced all over again.

We sat in the car. I let her cry as I sorted out what to say. This turned out to be a bad choice.

"Daddy." Her words were choked. "Say something. Say anything."

"I love you." True. Safe. More time to think.

She wiped her nose on her sleeve and calmed a bit, her breath still catching in her throat.

"I'm s-sorry. I'm s-so sorry. I didn't m-mean to..."

"I know. She told me." _Terror think anger think lost everything try to think. Slow brain, help me._ "She knows... everything?"

Stephanie nodded.

_Fuck. Me._

"She... touched?"

Stephanie nodded. Wiped her eyes. "I ruined it. I ruined everything. I'm so s-sorry, Daddy."

"Did she make you? Force you?"

My daughter's eyes fell to her lap. She shook her head. "Daddy. She's... like me. She was. She told me about her Daddy. How he came to her room. She told me and she figured out about us and and she was so nice and I thought that meant I could tell her so I did and then... I let her."

"Let her?"

Her face was blotted crimson. "She... did it... with her mouth."

My mind flashed to Stephanie's small hand at the back of my neck, urging my head down over the flat expanse of her tummy. An intoxicating moment that clouded my mind to the obvious questions I should have asked. Of course she'd tried to hide it. I couldn't blame her. I'd taught her about secrets, after all.

I cupped her shiny wet face in my hand. She tried to turn away. "Look at me, sweetheart." She did, reluctantly, her face shiny wet. "There's nothing that can ruin us. We're stronger than that." I wished I believed what I was saying. I tried to mean it, to say it like it was true. I honestly wasn't sure.

"She said it was all s-secret. They were like us, Daddy. He came to her room. He came to her..."

I was shaking. "I haven't been fair to you, Stephanie. Asking you to keep this secret. It's too much. I see that now."

"Nooooo. Daddy. No. It's not. It's not too much. Please please pleassseee don't say that... I can't... I mean... I need... you."

Gale's words came back to me, uninvited and unwelcome. _Stay close to her. Don't violate her trust._ And at the end. _I might help you._

My mind was clutching wildly at anything. It finally grabbed one thought that helped me return to a semblance of sanity.

"She can't tell."

"What do you mean, Daddy?"

"She can't tell anyone else. Because if she does... we can tell on her. She said that she..."

"She won't tell, Daddy. She wouldn't. She never told on her Daddy."

"But she did. She told me that she did."

"But why? She loved him. She did anything anything, she said. Like... like I..."

"She told on him because he... stopped."

She was quiet. Her slow brain was back too. "He didn't love her anymore?"

"I don't know. That's how she felt."

"Oh." She was chewing her lip so hard that it was bleeding. After an eternal silence, "Do you still l-love me, Daddy?"

I pulled my daughter into my lap and kissed her hard, on the lips, crushed her desperately against my chest, unaware and uncaring who might see. Fortunately the windows of the car were misty in the early winter chill.

#### Chapter LXIX (Carol)

Story times are my favorite times, curled up on Caroline's narrow bed, so small that we have no choice but to squish together, her head on my chest, our book on my tummy. Not that we'd make another choice anyway. This was the time when she could be small. Seven tries to be twelve but at night needs to be five. I could be her Mommy just like when she was tiny. The bed was like a time machine.

While we read, my youngest usually had her hand in her pants. Often this was just comfort, her movements occasional and slow as her eyelids fluttered at the edge of sleep. Sometimes she was more active, and I held her and kissed her hair while she sought her gentle bliss. And at times she'd push her pajama bottoms down and I'd know that she was asking, in her own quiet way, for my help. I didn't need to be told.

We were closest then, her bottom bared, my hand nestled at her cleft. My gaze held her face, taking in the subtle arch of her forehead, the slight parting of her lips, the warm flow of her breath. We'd talk about everything and nothing until she closed her eyes. I knew this signal too and focused my touch, drawing forth her delicate shudder and her soft, sleepy smile. How could this be wrong? Each time I felt her tremble in my arms, this question seemed more distant and absurd.

Our talks went everywhere. On this particular night I had a question on my mind. Caroline's pjs were around her calves, her knees akimbo, my fingers playing lightly over her tummy before working their way lower.

"Did you like kissing with Stephanie, sweetpea?"

"Ya."

"Was that the first time you did that, when Daddy and I saw you?"

"Ya. Mostly. I mean, we did sister kisses before."

"But these weren't sister kisses."

"I guess they were since we're sisters. But they were more like grownup kisses."

"Yes. Did you feel like Stephanie was making you do that, little one?"

"No. Kinda. It was her idea and I thought it was weird but fun too maybe then she started and it was mostly fun."

"I'd be sad if I thought Stephanie ever made you do something you didn't want to do. Or if I did. Or Daddy. I hope you'd tell us if that's ever true, sweetest. You would, wouldn't you?"

She nodded slowly. I let my index finger probe at the top parting of her elegantly understated quim.

"She's nice to me when we do that stuff. Nicer than she is mostly."

"She loves you, Caroline. Even if she has trouble showing it sometimes."

"Ya. I felt like it when she kissed me."

I brushed her hair back and leaned in, touched my lips to hers. "I love you too, lovebug. More than anything."

She pulled me close, her slender arms around my neck and she kissed me on the lips, a soft moist smack, an almost soundless giggle. I kissed her back, my hand now fully engulfing her softness. I felt the tip of her tiny tongue at my lips and I opened to receive it, meeting it with my own, the most delicate of touches.

Her hand on my tummy. I opened my eyes. Hers were closed. I thought to say something. I thought. My lips returned to hers, fervent. Her hand moved, under the waistband of my pajamas. My turn to tremble, perhaps in need, perhaps in fear. She found me slippery and warm and I moved against her tentative fingers. Her expression wavered as she explored, the profuse weeping of my fully wakened sex so different from her own thin slickness.

Her lids parted slightly, her teeth at her lip, uncertain. "Does that mean you're... happy, Mommy?"

I nuzzled her neck. "Yes, little one. It means I'm very happy. You don't have to..."

"I know."

Her hand stayed, her arm stretching out my pants. I pushed them down and returned my lips to hers. A wanton act. The perversity of it wasn't lost on me but the moment was the only moment that could be. Her fondling awkward, wandering, pausing as my touch distracted her then moving again, a thin finger curling inside, a childish thumb finding my engorged nub. I sighed against her lips, our breath together when she tightened and shook and stretched and then ever so slowly yawned, her cheek laid to mine. She was asleep on the spot, her little paw still cradled between my thighs. I carefully unwound us, pulled up her pants and kissed her forehead before turning out her light.

Rick looked up from his book as I entered our bedroom, my shirt already discarded on the floor between the door and the bed. He'd seemed distracted since returning from the pool with Stephanie. No doubt he was still processing our last conversation about our eldest daughter's evolving mashup of feelings for her father. At this moment I could well understand how confused he might be. He's stronger than me. He'd do the right thing. I was helpless before my feelings.

My entrance focused his attention. He read my expression, his book forgotten. "Tell me," he said.

"I want you naked," I said. He obliged. I mounted him, and I told him, told him every little bit, each taste of her lips as I kissed her, every sight and sound and scent and sensation of our little girl's hand between my legs. I fucked him so hard and loud and long that finally Stephanie's knowing giggle floated down the hall and through the open door that I hadn't closed and reached my ears and God forgive me and no I cannot help it and I don't care that it made me cum as though I were trampled by a raging herd of beasts.

#### Chapter LXX (Caroline)

Everybody thinks I'm dumb, but I'm not. I see stuff. Like I see Stephanie going to Daddy's room in the morning. She thinks she's so sneaky but I heard her get up so I watched down the hall and I saw her going there. Sometimes she goes without any clothes on.

I share Mommy with her. I thought baths and stories and touching with Mommy were just for me but I know they do touching too. So it's not fair that she gets Mommy and Daddy and I don't. And Mommy gets Daddy too. They do sex a lot now, even in the hall.

I liked how Daddy looked at me when I was in bed with them. He didn't look at me like I'm a baby. He looks at Stephanie that way when Mommy's not watching. A sex look.

It was squishy and weird touching Mommy, like putting your fingers into hot smelly soup. I wanted to. I think she liked it. I liked her face. She was like when Daddy had his hand in her pants in the hall. Every time she does it to me down there I want it more. Stephanie doesn't tell me to go away if I say I want to do it with her. Maybe if I can make Stephanie happy that way I can make Mommy happy too. I do it by myself sometimes even though it's lonesome. I want to do it to everybody and I want everybody to do it to me. Then it would be fair.

#### Chapter LXXI (Carol)

I let my seven-year-old daughter finger my cunt. No. Encouraged her.

It's helpful for me to use the right words. As much as my shame lingered, I didn't want to hide from what I did, from what I am, from what we were becoming. I confronted myself with the guttural truth of it.

Perhaps this shouldn't have seemed like such a momentous event. I'd been touching her, after all. No. I'd been fondling her immature cunny, twisting her little button around my finger, consciously and deliberately making her cum. But this was different. My youngest child was acting out in an overtly sexual way.

How was it possible that this felt natural, so natural that in the moment it raised not the slightest sense of doubt in me? It's only been after the fact that I looked back at the images, at the feelings, and wondered.

In the end the answer seemed simple, as simple and clear as her precious words, as her precious face. _Does that mean you're happy, Mommy?_ I was giving her bliss. She wanted to give it back. My precious baby, what have I taught you? Perhaps among all the rest, I've taught you to be kind.

**************************

The holidays were upon us, and this meant more time at home. The frenetic pace of the rest of world seemed to wash up like waves on the shore of our little family and leave us untouched, as immersed as we were in our own shifting sands. Sands of time, sand in the gears, quicksand. Words run in my head, sans conscious thought.

A blissful dawn, waking up in bed with my husband, lingering, letting ourselves lie newborn on the warm mother's belly of morning.

Caroline, poking my shoulder. I turned from Rick and smiled. She clambered up. And over. The tshirt she'd swiped from Stephanie wasn't quite long enough to hide her lack of underpants.

She usually snuggled in on my side, nestled at my front, Rick at my rear. Today she quite resolutely settled between us atop the blankets. Rick gave me a typically helpless look. I chided him gently with my eyes and pulled back the covers. Caroline wriggled herself beneath them, making us asymmetric triplets. I turned on my side to face her. Her father regarded us both, his head on his hand.

Her touch at my chest reminded me that I was wearing one of Rick's tshirts. Rick sadly had no one from whom to borrow his clothes.

"You're not naked." The young master of the canonical statement.

"Nope." I envied her conciseness and sought to emulate.

"How come?"

I shrugged. "Pjs are cozy."

"Ya."

Movement under the blankets. Rick's brow arched alarmingly. Caroline bit her lip.

"Daddy's not naked either."

My spouse's face was a miasma, his mouth open to speak but no sound evident. I sought to save him.

"Not today," I said.

"So no doing sex."

"Not right now, pumpkin."

More movement beneath the covers. "Daddy wants to."

Rick found his voice, though it was uneven. "Caroline. That's..."

I found my husband's eyes with mine and held them steadily for a long moment. His face was pleading. I let myself ask what it might be pleading for. My voice was very quiet, strangely calm, surprising him. And me.

"Are you touching Daddy's penis, lovebug?"

"Ya."

"It's big right now, isn't it?"

"Ya. Wicked big."

"It's always that way in the morning, sweetpea. It's just how Daddy's body works."

"So then you do sex."

"Sometimes. Not always."

"Oh. But he wants to." She looked at Rick. He blinked.

I laid a gentle finger on her forehead. "What our bodies do isn't up to us, really. But we can decide what to do about it. Sometimes it's nicest to just want to."

"Oh." She was confused but let it pass for the moment. "Daddy gets big. Mommy gets slippy. Then... baby." She lifted her hands from under the covers, brought them together in a mimed explosion of wiggly fingers. A fit of giggles took her. We both kissed her cheeks, Caroline's small round face squashed between us. She and I slid out of bed and headed to the kitchen, girlish whispering as we went.

Rick stayed back, his face redder than I'd seen it since High School. It was adorable. It was revenge. It was obvious and unthinkable and perfect and perverse. It was Caroline, our unashamed force of nature, in her innocence unstoppable.

#### Chapter LXXII (Rick)

I found it impossible to think or to act. I was locked in a loop, replaying the conversation with Gale, searching it for answers. I had begun to better understand what was said, but this hadn't lead to any clarity on what to do.

Meanwhile my wife and youngest daughter were on an astonishing journey of their own. Caroline's wandering little hand, finding me, holding me, squeezing me, casually chatting with her mother about my painfully erect cock. Another perfect opportunity to be open, to unburden myself of my secrets, to be free. Or to ruin us. In my profoundly unsettled state of mind I wasn't able to respond in any way, good or bad.

It was difficult to believe that Gale didn't pose a threat. All of my instincts told me cut her off completely, to get and stay as far away from her as possible. But it wasn't clear that this reduced the threat. _It would make me wonder what you're hiding._ And, how to make this happen? _You'd also have to explain it._ Saturday would inevitably come, time for the next swimming lesson, forcing the issue.

An easy path would be for Stephanie to tell her mother she'd decided she didn't want to continue. But this didn't account for Caroline. The thought of my youngest spending time with Gale was another matter entirely.

Tuesday came next, four days before Saturday. Six fifty-five. Eyes open. Stephanie standing beside the bed, pajama top and bottoms, hands at her sides, teeth at her lip, her dress and aspect a portrait of her uncertainty, her eyes darting and unable to meet mine.

An echo rang in my ears. _He left me. That's what I hate him for. That's why I told on him._

"Hello princess." I smiled. It was genuine. I was glad that she came to me. It was forced. I didn't know what to do.

"Hi Daddy."

"Good morning."

"'morning, Daddy."

Her wide brown eyes, cast to the floor, shiny and desperate. I broke, deep inside. It was impossible not to act.

"Take off your pajamas, Stephanie."

It seemed instantaneous, the appearance of a jumble of lavender flannel on the floor, my daughter's perfect nakedness, standing. Then beside me, under the covers, our hands clutching, our mouths devouring. Her head escaped my grasp, her lips at my chest, and at my navel, her breath like wind in the grass, bending the trimmed tips of the dark lawn beneath.

"Stephanie." I was helpless. She gripped me at the root, forced me to leak, a wet drip on my stomach. She hesitated. I touched her hair. I didn't push, or even nudge. The very tip of her tongue brushed over me, and withdrew.

"Stephanie. It's okay. Nothing has to change. We'll... be okay."

Another wet drip on my stomach. It wasn't from me. My daughter shuddered in sobs. I gathered her into my arms and pressed her to my chest.

"How come she's crying?"

Stephanie tensed at the voice. I had to blink away my own tears before my vision resolved to reveal Caroline standing in the doorway.

"Bad dream," I said. I wished it was so.

"Go away," said Stephanie, her voice muffled against me. She never wanted her sister to see her cry, so this reaction wasn't a surprise to Caroline. My youngest looked at the heap of pajamas on the floor next to the bed.

"Daddy's penis is always big in the morning." _Fuck._ Too smart by far, is our seven-year-old.

"Go. Awayyyyyyyyy." Stephanie's shriek was piercing even through the blankets.

Caroline pouted. "It's not fair. And we're gonna be late. And it's not my fault so you can write a note to my teacher."

I closed my eyes and listened to the slap of her bare feet recede towards the kitchen and held Stephanie in a desperate embrace.

#### Chapter LXXIII (Stephanie)

Thank God Daddy still loves me. I was so scared. He was scared too but I heard him and Mommy and it made me feel better. Maybe it was okay after all. She said the f-word a lot at the end. I guess Daddy made her really happy. I wanted to go see but I didn't want to make any more trouble than I already did. Then in the morning he looked at me twice.

Daddy said Gale can't tell. I don't think she would. She understands. She got mad at her Daddy but that's because he didn't love her anymore and I'm not ever going to let Daddy not love me.

I totally would have done it. I thought and thought about it. It's easy to just say _anything_ but then you have to think about what anything really means. Mommy said it's not awful if it's somebody you love. She said it tastes like Daddy. I don't know what that means but I guess it can't be that bad. I like how he smells and if you like how something smells you mostly like how it tastes. Don't you? But then Mommy likes broccoli but it makes me want to throw up. Anyway, I would have. I didn't cry cuz of that. I cried cuz Daddy said we'd be okay and that made it all let go inside.

Now Gale is scary scary. Part of me is glad she told since there's no secrets with Daddy anymore. I'm going to tell him everything no matter what so I don't have to feel that way ever again, like when I was standing in the hall watching them talk.

It's awful and I know I shouldn't but I want to ask her. What she did when her Daddy came to her room. Or what she didn't. Cuz he stopped, so maybe she didn't do... something. Something that would have made him happy.

And then Caroline comes in my room when we're supposed to be sleeping. She said she's lonesome and can she sleep with me. Weird but I said okay. My bed's small but she is too and it was kinda nice and warm and I could hold her like a teddy bear. I'm too old for teddy bears now but still. And she put her hand in my underpants and that was nice too.

Then she whispers, "I touched Daddy." Just like that.

I said, "What do you mean?" I felt it in my tummy like a cold rock.

She said she touched his penis even inside his pants and I said Mommy's going to be mad at you and she said Mommy was right there and she knows. I can't even believe it. I said did you do anything else and she said no and that they weren't mad or anything. Then she says what do you do with Daddy in the morning when you go to his room. I just said I wake him up. She laughed and I pulled her hair. I didn't mean to but I couldn't help it. She cried and I said I was sorry and not to tell Mommy. She said it's not fair that everybody has Daddy except her and please don't be mad. Sometimes I hate her even if she's right. I thought about how I felt about her and Mommy. She tried to kiss me but I didn't want to but then her hand was there and finally I kissed her and I put my hand in her pants and we fell asleep that way.

#### Chapter LXXIV (Carol)

I had the rare opportunity to pick Caroline up at school. She needed new clothes and we were going shopping, just us. I hated that she was growing. Everytime I saw her I could swear that her legs were an inch longer. Were they ever stubby? I clung to the memory. She hated never having anything new of her own and particularly rebelled when I pragmatically suggested that there was no reason she couldn't just wear Stephanie's old bathing suit.

"Next you want me to wear her old underpants."

"Well..." I almost said, 'Why not?' Her glare stopped me cold. "Okay then. Girls' Day Out." Her grin infected me, warmed me. I touched her knee as I drove.

Inside our cozy family our lines had blurred. I was letting myself feel things that I couldn't readily explain. Still, there were moments of gut-clenching doubt. As natural as it felt to me, I knew that the world at large wouldn't take well to our new normal.

"You were curious about Daddy, I guess." I smiled at my daughter, a calm facade.

"Huh?"

"When you touched him the other morning." She still looked confused. "When we were all in bed."

"Oh. I guess so."

"You weren't curious?"

"Ya. But I just wanted to."

"What made you think of that, sweetpea?"

"Cuz it's fair."

"Fair?"

"Ya."

"How do you mean?"

"It should be everybody."

We'd drilled fairness and equality and acceptance into the dear little ears of our children since birth. _You've Got To Be Carefully Taught._ I had to think for a long moment. It seems there was a whole new set of things that I hadn't allowed myself to consider, let alone feel.

In the moment it had seemed awkward and cute. Innocent exploration. I'd somehow managed to compartmentalize my daughter groping my husband's erection as something not related to all the other things going on. All the touching. _Stop with the fucking euphemisms._ All the mutual masturbation. All the sex.

My mind flashed to a memory, the dinner table after the pool, so long ago. _I did a flip underwater but Steph helped so I didn't really do it by myself and I saw Daddy's penis._ Then to an image, Caroline playing with her friends at school. _My Daddy's penis is always big in the morning._

I swallowed. "I hadn't really thought of it that way, lovebug." Processing. Mind and gut achurn.

"I share you with Daddy. And with Stephanie. It's not fair if you don't share Daddy. I saw he helped you in the hall. I guess he knows how."

"I don't think it's quite the same, sweetheart."

She shrugged. Unable to fully confront this maelstrom of conflicting thoughts, my mind nimbly sidestepped to the other obvious issue.

"You know that this is just for us? For our family? That we don't talk about it with anyone else, because they wouldn't understand?" Ha. As if I understood it.

"Ahuh."

"It's very important, Caroline."

"I knoooowwwwww, Mommy." She demonstrated her mastery of her sister's eye-roll. "Like you said. For our family. Our _whole_ family."

I squeezed her knee. She seemed satisfied that she'd sufficiently shamed me and used the moment to her advantage. "Stephanie got a two-piece," she offered, eyebrows raised with clear intent.

"If Stephanie jumped off a cliff..." The trope came automatically.

"Mommmmmmmmmmmmm."

Stephanie. _Our whole family._ Fuck. I had to ask. "I don't suppose you told your sister."

"About Daddy? Ya, I told her. She got mad but then we kissed and made up." A tiny giggle.

"It's nice that you and your sister are getting along." A placeholder. Churning. Processing.

"I didn't tell her about touching you."

"Oh?"

She looked a bit sheepish. "I guess it's hard to be all-the-way fair sometimes."

I could only nod.

**************************

"I wish you could have seen your face." Rick and I were brushing our teeth in concert at our matching sinks, for once on the same schedule in the morning. I'd chosen this time carefully so that this conversation didn't have time to get serious. I needed it to be not-a-big-deal.

I'd wrestled with Caroline's words through a sleepless night. I wanted them to be wrong. I couldn't find any flaw. The toothpaste wasn't going back into the tube.

He spat. "It was... surprising." His tone was cautious. His gaze turned to my reflection in the mirror. Was this me, about to say what I said? Perhaps some inverted other-universe me. I could believe that.

"She's curious," I said.

"I suppose that's natural."

"Ya. Natural." I reached for the floss. "Did she... make contact?" I heard other-me ask this question from the mirror. When I blinked, the movement under the blanket replayed in my mind and I understood that I hadn't stopped wondering since it happened.

Rick squinted at my reflection. He's so adorably awkward. "Errr. At first just... outside. But she persisted. Maybe I should have..." He trailed off.

I imagined it, her tiny hand there. My flossing fingers made a mask of my face, obscuring my inner turmoil. I ran my tongue over my front teeth. Shiny smooth satisfying. I reached for the mouthwash. "I didn't. I didn't stop her either." Other-me was calm. Matter-of-fact.

His image swallowed. "Did you tell her..." He paused. "What did you tell her?"

I rinsed and spat.

"I told her to be careful not to talk about it outside of the family."

I left the father of my children standing at the sink, his toothbrush in hand, felt his eyes follow me as I went to get dressed.

#### Chapter LXXV (Rick)

The week was befuddling. Carol was taking extra time off at the end of the year which was delightful and cozy. Constraining too, but that seemed like a good thing. Perhaps we were all trying to understand ourselves, and each other, and everything, the ultimate questions for which the answers would never be as simple as forty-two. Plus we were just busy. Holidays do that.

I had new hope that our various paths through the giant mushroom forest might be converging. Caroline's hand. Carol's words in the mirror. _I didn't stop her either._ The light at the end of my faint wandering track was still just a pinprick. If we could let things evolve, perhaps Stephanie and I could just merge quietly onto the astonishingly open trail being blazed by my wife and our youngest. Perhaps we'd never need to talk about the way we'd taken and the bridges we'd crossed.

It got to be Friday very quickly. I spent much of the day wondering what to do about Saturday. Swimming lesson day. I volunteered to pick Stephanie up from school.

"So. Tomorrow. Do you want to go?"

I didn't need to explain the question. She'd clearly been chewing on it as well. Her teeth at her lip brought the metaphor to life.

"No. Kinda. I don't know."

"You could say you've changed your mind about lessons."

"Ya. But then Caroline. She loves it. And... maybe it would make her mad. Gale."

"We're not going to do things because of that, princess. We decide, for us." I'd convinced myself of this, terrifying as it was. I wouldn't be blackmailed.

Stephanie looked as uncertain as I felt. Her face was to the car window, a fan-shaped spray of fog growing and shrinking on the glass with each breath.

"She understands, Daddy. That's why I told her."

"Do you like her? Does she scare you?"

"Ya. And ya. Both. Like you sometimes."

"Like me?"

"Like that time in the parking lot."

"Oh. Sorry."

"No. See. I liked it. That's what I mean. Good scary."

"Do you want to... I mean... did you like..."

"I liked it. Weird. Scary. But ya." I could see a flush of red at the back of her neck.

"I wanted to kill her." My voice had an icy edge that I hadn't wanted her to hear.

Stephanie turned to me. "Me too. For telling. But after... I guess I was glad we didn't have secrets anymore."

"Not between us."

"Ya." She looked down. We both knew that there were other secrets.

A long quiet moment. Then, "You let Caroline touch you."

Of course. Girls talk. "I didn't exactly let her. She just did it. That was it."

Her response surprised me. "It's okay. I got mad but I'm not. Like with you and Mommy. Fair's fair."

Our children teach us. It's inevitable. I reached out and laid my hand on her cheek. She smiled and put her hand over mine. My finger strayed to her lips. They parted, kissed me. I let my finger linger. Her lips took it into a soft warm embrace, her eyes face hesitant and then knowing. I imagined leaving my fingerprint on her small firm tongue before slowly withdrawing.

"I want to, Daddy. I think about it all the time now."

The heat in my face reflected hers. I looked up to realize that we'd made it home on autopilot. As I turned into the driveway, I braked just in time to avoid hitting the unfamiliar car parked in my usual spot. I looked to Stephanie with a question in my eyes. She shrugged. She didn't recognize the vehicle either.

As we entered the kitchen I saw at first only the smile. The rest of Gale's visage emerged from behind it, Cheshire-like. I had to blink to absorb the incongruity of seeing her here rather than at the pool. _I don't want to go among mad people._

"Hello, Rick. And Stephanie. How nice to see you." Coffee cups, half empty. She'd been here for a while.

Carol spoke up. "Strangest thing. It turns out she lives close by. I saw her in the grocery store and of course asked her over. Funny how little we know about people these days."

_Oh, you can't help that. We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad._

I felt the blood that had risen to my cheeks drain to the pit of my stomach. I could manage only to echo Carol's words. "Yes. That is the strangest thing."

#### Chapter LXXVI (Rick)

Carol knows that I'm not much for small talk. She wasn't surprised that I didn't have a lot to say to Gale as we interminably sipped coffee. Carol and Gale chatted easily. Girls talk. Guys don't understand. Most of the conversation passed through me without registering as my mind spun tales of horror.

One set of Gale's words did stab their way into my brain like an icicle falling from the roof and piercing through the top of my head. "You know, Stephanie is my only lesson tomorrow. If you'd like, I could pick her up on my way and drop her back here after."

I began to form an objection. Before it could reach my mouth Carol had seized on the idea.

"Oh. That's actually helpful. We have a busy day otherwise."

She was right. Caroline had soccer and a school event. We would have had to split up to cover it all. I swallowed my objection at the risk of vomiting up my soul.

I needed to move my car so Gale could get out of our driveway. This gave me a reason to follow her outside.

"What a surprise, to see you here. What a coincidence." I'd imagined using a measured tone. Wasn't possible.

She actually smiled. "Who's the liar here, Rick? Who's hiding things? Not me. I'll show you my license. I live ten blocks from here. Carol invited me. I didn't suggest it. Ask her. You don't have to guard the pet rabbit."

"What do you want, Gale?"

"Access."

"Access? To my daughters?"

"To Stephanie, mainly. I want to know that she's okay. I think Caroline is still her mother's girl."

Gale seemed to know us intimately. I was experiencing what it meant to be violated. Guilt and anger fed each other. "Stephanie is frightened of you. She doesn't want to see you."

"The first part is true. I'm sad about that. The second part isn't entirely true. We understand each other, she and I. I know that's hard to hear. You'd like to think that no one could ever know your children the way that you do."

"You want to..."

"I want to talk with her. I don't want to scare or confuse her. I want to help her deal with what she's feeling. You really don't know how big the world is to her, Rick. How consumed she is with you, with all of it. How it can destroy her if things go wrong."

"You want to talk." My sarcasm dripped in wet snowball smacks onto the black asphalt.

"Yes. If she shows interest in more, well... I'll take that as it comes. I won't initiate. How's that?"

I felt trapped. I don't deal well with being trapped. "Are we in some sort of perverse negotiation here?"

"I suppose we are. It's a bit of a Catch-22. I can't promise that I'll leave you alone unless you let me in."

I managed to stew silently for a time, hoping for my slow brain to engage.

Gale's face softened. "I'm not out to get you, or her. This isn't about my sob story. If you're wondering why I'm alone, why I'm not married, why I don't have an amazing family like yours... well, it's proven difficult for me trust anyone since I was thirteen. I wouldn't wish that on anybody."

"Maybe you just like little girls."

She chuckled. "Listen to you. Pot and kettle. You put your tongue in your daughter's bare little cunt, you fucking hypocrite. You taught her how to work your cock. Does she use both hands, Rick? When she jerks you off?" She paused, looked down, drew breath. "I have reason to be what I am. What's your excuse?"

The shock of her language brought me to a standstill. I began to realize that this woman had spent her life living with these feelings, dealing with them, that they'd cost her more than I ever wanted to pay. I still wanted to throttle her, to see the veins in her neck bulge in my fingers. But her pain was visceral. It gave me pause.

"I love my daughter. My family. You ruined yours. You're angry. You want revenge, somehow. You're going to torture us." This was the most honest thing I'd said to her, my fear insisting to be spoken.

Gale met my eyes. "I tried to protect my sister. That's how I justified it at the time, anyway. We don't talk anymore, but I think she's better off for it. I've had enough hate in my life. What I see here is different. Maybe what could have been. Maybe it's my chance to heal. Give me that chance, Rick. The alternatives aren't good for either of us."

She waited for a reply. I had none.

"I'll pick Stephanie up at 1:30 tomorrow," she said.

She waited for a reply. I had none. She got into her car. I let her go.

#### Chapter LXXVII (Stephanie)

Daddy said to give Gale a chance. A chance to be nice, I guess. I didn't know what to do. I just didn't want to be scared anymore.

When I got in her car I sat way away from her and looked out the window. She didn't say anything til we were far from our house.

"I'm so sorry that I scared you, Stephanie. I always hated it when a grownup said this to me, but I did what I thought would be best for you."

"How come? Why did you tell?" I wanted to be mad but it was all confusing.

"It's his secret too, isn't it? I didn't tell him anything he didn't already know."

"Ya you did." My throat got tight.

"Well. You're right. I told him that I touched you. I didn't want there to be any secrets left, so that your Daddy could trust me."

My throat closed up and it went to my eyes and the world was all water. "I thought I ruined everything."

"Did you? Is everything ruined?"

I shook my head.

"You went to his room again."

I nodded.

"And it was okay?"

I looked at her. She knew. She wiped my wet cheek with her finger. She said, "And here we are, you and me. Are you okay? Do you hate me?"

I had to think. "I did when you told."

"I understand. But is it better, now that there are no secrets?"

"I guess so." I breathed but it got stuck.

"Do you forgive me?" I never had a grownup ask me that before. I know you're supposed to forgive people when they say they're sorry.

"I guess so."

"I hope that you can, that you do. I can see how much you love each other, Stephanie. That's so special. I just want to be sure that it never changes. It makes me so happy to know."

I hid my face cuz I smiled. Gale said, "What is it? What did I say?"

"You said _happy._ "

"Yes. It's so beautiful, how your family cares for each other. It makes me very happy."

I giggled. Gale must have thought I was kinda crazy. "It's just... _happy_ means something else... for us."

"Oh?"

I couldn't stop laughing. It was like everything I was feeling had to bust out of me. Gale's face got scrunchy and then her eyes got big. "Oh," she said. "I think I get it. You make each other happy. When you're together. When you have your time together."

She knew. I liked that she knew, that I didn't have to tell her.

She said, "That's perfect, Stephanie. That's so perfect." She touched my knee. It felt okay. We were at the pool and I wasn't scared anymore.

In the hall, she said, "You get to decide."

I didn't know what she meant. Then she pointed to the door of the girls' lockers. I made a yucky face and she laughed. We went to the Family Changing Room.

When she locked the door she sat next to me. "We're going to tell your father everything that we talk about, Stephanie. Everything that we do. Here or anywhere. You get to decide, what we talk about, what we do. Is that okay? No more secrets."

"Okay." I guess I didn't sound too sure.

"Really okay?"

"Ya but. What about your secrets? About you."

She started to undress so I did too. "What about them?" she said.

"Do we tell my Dad about them?"

"I've already told him," she said.

"Oh. I guess... I wanted to know..." My face felt hot. I didn't want to ask her.

She smiled. Her shirt was off. She's so pretty. She touched my hair. "What do you want to know, Stephanie? You can ask me anything."

I still couldn't say it. "Guess," I said.

"Your cheeks are red as ripe apples. I think I can guess."

"Then guess."

"You want to know about me and my Daddy. What we did. Is that a good guess?"

I stared at my sneakers while I pushed them off with my toes.

"Ya. How you made him... happy."

"Hmmm. Well. If we talk about that, I suppose we don't have to tell your father, exactly. Since they're my secrets."

"Okay."

"You want your Daddy to be happy, don't you?"

I nodded. "I thought I ruined it."

"So maybe we don't tell him. Maybe you just show him."

She said what I was thinking. Weird. "Ya. Maybe. I mean... I don't know..."

"I know. It's strange, isn't it? Scary even. Thinking about what could happen."

"Ya."

She kissed the top of my head. "These sorts of talks are better if you're naked."

"They are?"

"Yes, little one. They are." She finished undressing so I did too. She sat with the bench between her legs so I did too. Our knees touched.

Her eyes were shiny. They're so green, like the first grass after winter. "First," she said, "let me tell you about my Daddy's cock."

I blushed and giggled but that didn't stop her. She talked for a while about how it was like magic how it was so different when it got big and angry and how she loved to make it go hard then let it go soft over and over. About how when he kissed her down there that he liked her to say things, how she liked it, how it made her feel. And then about what she did. She said she did everything when she was older but when she was my age she was small like me so it wouldn't go in the baby place but it would go in her mouth. Some of it would. And about how she wanted to but she didn't want to but when she saw how happy it made him she had to and she had to and then she knew that she needed to. Not just for him but for her. She said how she did it the first time with just kisses and then the second time and then the times after that and how he talked to her and made it not so weird.

I guess I wasn't paying attention to my hand but there it was. She smiled. "It's okay, Stephanie. Now you know why these talks are better if you're naked."

So I went ahead and did it while she talked. About how she had a little sister too, and how her sister bugged her, and I said I knew all about that, and she said do you kiss your sister and I said ya and she said do you let your Daddy watch you kiss her and I said ya and she said do you kiss her down there and I said no. And she said that her Daddy liked to see her kiss her sister down there. He liked it a lot and a lot.

We talked that way til I was sore and we never went to the pool that day and she took me home and kissed my cheek and Daddy was waiting for me at the door and he watched her drive away and he hugged me so tight and I told him everything was okay and he picked me up and carried me on his hip into the kitchen where Mommy and Caroline were making dinner and it smelled warm and cozy and everything really was okay.

#### Chapter LXXVIII (Carol)

"Stephanie says people do sex with their mouth."

My youngest. My baby. Somewhere deep inside I knew this moment was inevitable but I hadn't let myself prepare for it. My pause was long enough to elicit a prompt.

"I didn't believe her."

 _Good._ That's what I wanted to say. Keep not believing her. I knew better.

"When people love each other, they do lots of things to make each other happy."

"Gross things?"

"They don't seem that way if things are just right. Lean back, sweetpea."

She was in the bathtub. I was perched on the edged, washing her hair. I dunked her carefully, the suds streaming when she sat back up. The water was grey, half the soccer field having been brought home with her. "Stand up so we can rinse, lovebug." I pulled the drain, the gurgles meeting the splashes as she sloshed to her feet. I turned on the shower head and took it in hand, running the warm water through her hair.

"Stephanie said..."

I was hoping to change the subject. "I'd like to hear more about what Caroline says." She smiled a little.

"No but. She said. In the shower, you did the thing. With the shower."

"She said that, did she?"

"Ya. She liked it. She said."

I kissed her shiny wet forehead. Fair is fair. I turned her to face me and gently pushed her back against the tile, her small round bottom squashed. Tickled her tummy with the spray. "Did she say that? That she liked it?"

Caroline giggled and squirmed. "Ya. She totally said that."

I aimed lower. Adjusted the spray. Her eyes stretched wide, then slowly closed. The softest whimper. My fingers spread her. I played the water over her legs and to her chest and back. A short sharp breath as it returned to flow over the delicate inner ridges, rippling them like shifting sand at the bottom of a shallow stream. I swam in the bliss of her face, my hand on her chest as she spasmed, held her up as her knees threatened to collapse.

There was a hand on my tummy, a presence at my back.

"I wondered what was taking so long. We need to scoot or we'll be late for Caroline's thing."

My daughter's eyes were open again, gentle and hazy and nonplussed.

"It's the Holiday Sing Along, Daddy. You hafta sing. Everybody does."

"They may ask me to stop once they hear me."

"Nooooo. Everybody's bad and nobody cares."

He kissed my neck. "Was that nice, pumpkin? What Mommy did?"

"It was nicest, Daddy. I liked it."

"I saw, little one. You were very happy. Now run and get dressed."

My husband turned me to face him. He pushed the robe from my shoulders. I watched it pool on the floor at my feet. He kissed my lips, a brush at first, then with insistent force. He touched my bare shoulders. I sank to my knees, feeling no shame.

Yes, my baby. People do in fact do sex with their mouths.

#### Chapter LXXIX (Rick)

I could tell from Stephanie's face that the swimming lesson hadn't created more trouble. The knot in my gut regarding Gale was slowly unwinding. I can't be comfortable with my fate in someone else's hands. But then again, control is an illusion. But then again, it's an essential illusion that allows us to keep our sanity.

After dinner, Carol retired to her reading. Stephanie was in her room, unpacking her backpack. I stepped in and closed the door.

"So," I said.

"I already said it's okay, Daddy."

"What happened?"

"Nothing. I mean, we talked."

"That's all? She didn't touch you?"

"No. Just talked." It felt like the truth, but perhaps not the whole truth.

"What did you talk about?"

"About her. She's actually nice, Daddy. We don't have to be afraid. I'm sure now."

I saw her take her bathing suit from her bag and put it into her drawer.

"It's not wet, sweetpea?"

"What? Oh." Her eyes dropped. "We talked a lot."

"Stephanie. No secrets. Not with us."

"I know Daddy. We just talked. It was nice."

The door opened. Caroline marched in.

"Knocking?" said Stephanie. "Ever hear of it?"

"Oh. Sorry. Forgot." She went out and closed the door behind her. A moment later came the predictable knock.

"Go away," came the equally predictable response.

"No. But..." A muffled pout. I opened the door. Caroline's small round face peered in.

"What?" said her sister. "Me and Daddy are talking."

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing."

"Then it's not actual talking. Daddy's a bad singer."

"Is that it?"

"No. Mommy did the shower thing to me."

"Oh." Stephanie's expression flashed through an arc that began with a scowl but then eased. "Cool," she finally said.

I raised my eyebrows. "Fair's fair," said my eldest. "I'm glad she did it. It's awesome."

I hugged Stephanie's head to my chest and kissed her hair. Her head reached up to my chest now. When did that happen?

Caroline shrugged, perhaps feeling cheated by her sister's lack of jealousy. "So ya," she said.

"Is that it?" said Stephanie. I felt a small hand below my belt. It was out of Caroline's line of sight.

"I guess so."

"Bye then."

Caroline's extended lower lip preceded her out of the room. The small hand was groping, squeezing. The effect was inevitable. A small voice was whispering.

"I love when it gets hard, Daddy. It's like magic." I saw her throat. She swallowed. "Your." She swallowed. "Your c-cock."

I looked to the door frame. It was empty. I lifted her chin and kissed her lips. She was trembling, out of her depth. I wanted to join her in this moment, to meet her where she was, to share her fear and uncertainty.

"I love when you touch it, Stephanie. When you touch my cock. When you make my cock hard." I engulfed her mouth. Held her. The urgency faded as I understood the impossibility of this exact moment, in her room, the door open, the household awake. The small hand moved slowly, tracing the outline of my need. I kissed her forehead, again the father. It seemed not so strange now that the currents ran together, the warm and the hot.

"There will come a time, princess. I don't know when, but I think it will come."

"What time, Daddy?"

"A time when we don't have to hide. When we can all be together."

She looked up at me. "It's not now, is it?"

I shook my head. "Not now. We won't know when until it happens. Only just then. But there's something important. If it comes, when it comes..."

"I think I know, Daddy."

"Tell me, kitten."

"We hafta pretend it's the first time."

I bent to kiss her cheek. The light at the end of our path through the forest grew a little brighter.

#### Chapter LXXX (Rick)

Christmas came and went in a blur of exploded wrapping paper and dark gravy. I felt like I was trapped in a Hell where the damned were forced to watch YouTube unboxing videos for all eternity. But then again, it was Christmas and we got to spoil our children and they were happy except when they were fighting. The fighting generally didn't last and sometimes ended well. They were learning to sort things out between them. They kissed and made up. All as you'd hope for with family.

That the kissing sometimes went further seemed to become just a thing. Christmas morning found both girls asleep in Stephanie's bed, tangled in a heap, bare from the waist down and holding each other at the cleft. I had a very brief thought that this image would make the perfect photo Christmas card. The accompanying letter could expound on the lovely new hobby that kept the girls out of trouble. I shared this notion with my wife. She laughed but I played it out until she thought I might actually be serious and then I teased her and we both laughed. This was us.

All this family closeness left little time for family closeness. Stephanie and I flirted in ways I hoped were subtle. Flirted with each other, flirted with disaster. Things were pending. Pent up. Pensive. No, just thinking. Endlessly thinking, mostly about the penultimate.

Boxing Day. No more unboxing, thank God. Still a holiday somewhere and we claimed it for our own, Carol and I in our morning bed, a small visitor sandwiched between. Giggle squirmfest. Then a more purposeful wiggle beneath the blankets. Caroline's hand emerged, holding her underpants. Carol smiled softly and pressed her lips to the little one's ear.

"Is it that time, lovebug?" A glance from my wife that I was unsure how to interpret.

"Ya."

Carol laid her hand on Caroline's chest, still warm in flannel. Tugged up on the shirt. I followed the shape of her hand as it moved.

"I want Daddy to do it."

Carol's eyes took several seconds to close. A long still moment. They opened again slowly, saw my helpless face, offered no help.

"Is that so?" said my wife. She'd decided. I didn't know what yet, but it was clear that a choice had been made.

"Ya."

"Well then, you'll have to ask him, won't you?" Carol's smile was inscrutable. My daughter's, impish.

"Please Daddy. You know how. Mommy said."

My turn to decide. This I wouldn't be able to plausibly deny. Passive observer. Blameless bystander. _It was all her, really. I just didn't know how to stop it._

 _Fuck that,_ fast brain said. My hand found Carol's resting on our child's tummy, covered it, met and held my wife's gaze. She was searching for the way through this, as was I. Tangled vines of deep dark forest. Whither? Or wither. Slow brain caught up. I understood. There was only one true path.

I gazed down at our child's expectant face. "I think together, little one. That's the best way. Together."

"Okay." She saw the wisdom, or just wanted someone to get on with it. I felt a small knee as Caroline splayed her thighs, as though this was the most natural thing. My seven year old was impatiently horny. I'd decide later if this bothered me. In the moment, it made me leak.

Carol pulled my head to her and kissed me on the mouth. Our daughter giggled with squashed shoulders.

"Not you guys. Me."

"Aren't we all demanding this morning," Carol said.

"Ya." Shameless. Rightly so.

I felt my wife's finger trace a circle on the downslope Caroline's tummy. The little one tensed and wriggled. "Tickles."

"And this. How does this feel?" I let my hand follow Carol's lower, felt her fingers part the folds, a gentle flicking. Caroline seemed to melt into the mattress.

"Ya. Do that."

My wife's hand at my wrist. She placed me there, in the warmth. Left me there. Her hand slid up my arm and then down.

I took up where Carol left off, studying my daughter's face. I was timid, barely touching. Unfathomable softness, not to be fathomed, only to be adored. Her bottom lifted, pressing her bare sex against my palm. I took the cue and returned the pressure. A small short pant. I saw her against the shower wall, the water flowing.

Carol had fished me out of my boxers. Caroline felt the movement of her mother's hand. Reached. Found. Gripped. Carol's hand over hers, over me.

I carefully pinched the tiny nub between thumb and finger, so small that it could hardly be felt. Still to my amazement it stiffened. My twisting quickened as the tangle of fingers large and small tugged at me. Caroline tensed, then shook. I seized, thought my heart would stop. I soaked the fingers, large and small.

There was a moment of utter stillness. Caroline's eyes were wide, her breath short. Then her forehead crinkled and she pulled her hand up from under the covers. It dripped. She stared at it, aghast.

"Dadddyyyyyyyy."

Her mother chuckled. "Oh shush. Give me your shirt." The little one lifted her arms and Carol stripped it off her. I'd soaked that too. She used the dry part to wipe Caroline's fingers.

"Weirrrdddd."

"That's just how it works, sweetpea. That's how we know that Daddy is happy."

Our daughter considered. Looked at the dark stains on her nightshirt. "Does it do that every time?"

"Yes pumpkin. That's Daddy's bliss. Like how you feel, at the end. His is just... kinda messy."

"Even if it's in your mouth?"

Carol's turn to look helpless. I could only mirror her.

"Well. Yes," Carol said, tentatively. "Why do you say that, sweetpea?"

"Cuz in the bathroom Daddy looked really happy when it was in your mouth and so I guess it all went there and that's... So. Weird."

My face sheepish. I shook my head. No, I hadn't seen her watching. Clever sneaky girl.

Caroline seemed none the worse. She sniffed her hand and wrinkled her nose just a little, a curious bunny. "Imma go wash."

In a flash she was out of bed and gone, bare bottom bouncing. Her spot was warm. And wet. I moved into it, uncaring of the mess I'd made. I held my wife carefully.

"Now you know," she whispered. "Now I'm not alone."

"You're never alone, Carol."

"I was. I thought I was. I thought you could never understand."

I lifted my fingers to her nose. We breathed our daughter's subtle scent. She closed her eyes.

"Together," I said. "Our bliss."

#### Chapter LXXXI (Stephanie)

So Caroline marches into my room, naked. Then she sticks her hand under my nose.

"Smell," she says. I smelled. I wanted to kill her.

"It's Daddy," she says.

"Duh. I know." I tried to pretend I didn't care.

"Mommy helped."

"What?"

"Mommy did it with me. Daddy did me and me and Mommy did Daddy."

I wanted to cry. She sniffed her hand and made a yucky face.

"It went everyplace. So weird."

"It's not weird. It's... it means... he's happy." I didn't want her to see me cry.

"Ya. Mommy 'splained."

"Go away."

She shrugged. "I dunno why you never go in their room when Mommy's there with Daddy. That's when the best stuff happens."

I slammed my door after she left.

#### Chapter LXXXII (Carol)

As I wiped my husband's cum from my seven-year-old daughter's fingers, I considered the past, the present and the future, weighing the very essence of my being and that of my family.

That'll be the first sentence of my memoir, I think. A shocking tell-all ripped from today's headlines, published from my jail cell. I look horrible in orange.

Perhaps stranger than the act itself is how we talked about it afterwards. We could talk about these things now. It felt like we might be discussing how to deal with the girls' report cards, or their lack of enthusiasm for doing chores around the house.

He washed, I dried. We have a dishwasher but still sometimes revel in the comfort of routine work.

"I was glad how you handled that," I said. A bit cryptic. I expected Rick would understand.

"Oh. I'm glad that you're glad. I wasn't sure..."

"Me either."

"Is it okay?" I could understand his desire to reduce things to yes-or-no. We both knew it wasn't that simple.

I put down the knife I was scrubbing. Not that I was going to go insane and stab anybody, but it seemed best. It wasn't the sharp kind anyway.

"Together is good," I said, after a moment.

Rick set down the towel and held me from behind. "A little child shall lead them."

"Did you actually just quote scripture to me so that we'll feel better about sex with our children?"

"Errrr. I guess I did. But you know what I mean. Caroline is... insistent. It feels... natural."

I nodded. "In the moment, it always does. I wonder afterwards. There's a needful part of it, for me. Filling something empty inside. That feels... selfish. It scares me. You don't seem to have that, the need. For you, it just seems to be... nice."

"More than nice. It feels like part of us. I wouldn't have thought so, without a child to lead us. But now it's part of being close, staying close. We've almost come apart, before."

"Ya. I know." This was where my need dwelled, in that fear, the fear of losing them. "We could lose everything." This was the other fear.

"We won't. They know."

"But they're not careful, Rick. They're children. Children say things."

He squeezed me. He had this worry too. How could he not? "They're smart. And they're needful, too."

"We could stop."

"Could we? Would they understand?"

"I'm not sure that matters," I said.

"Stopping brings its own worries, Carol. What did you say to me when you told me that Stephanie is in love with me?"

"That we shouldn't punish her for her feelings."

"It would feel like that to them, I think."

I pressed his hand to my mouth. "It would feel like that to me."

"So it's okay."

I turned and buried my head in his neck. "We need to define what we mean by okay."

"We do?"

"Yes. This morning was different."

"I suppose it was."

"So now," I had to pause. "So now, it means it's okay for the girls to play with your cock."

He didn't say anything for a time. I prompted. "I guess that didn't sound like a question, but it was."

"I think it's best for you to decide that, Carol."

"Coward."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"You came all over her. All over Caroline."

"I had little choice."

"Bullshit." I wasn't angry, despite the word. In the moment, I'd led my little girl's hand to her father's hardness.

He was quiet again. Then, "I touched her warmth. I smelled her hair. I saw her face. I felt her hand. I had no choice."

"Yes. I know."

"So, it's okay?"

"You know what she said to me, the other day?"

"Caroline? I can't even imagine."

"She said, 'It should be everybody.'"

"How can anything be truer than that?"

"Do you want them to, Rick?"

"Do I want them to what?" Annoying. He was being intentionally obtuse.

I was less abstruse. "Do you want your daughters to play with your cock?" Perhaps it really was yes-or-no.

He led my hand to his hardness. I traced the outline through his pants. He kissed me. I broke it off.

"Use your words. Like a big boy."

"You know very well that I've never grown up."

"True. You can be infantile. Like right now."

He kissed me again. I let him. He was gathering himself, I could tell.

His breath on my nape. It always raised goosebumps.

"Together. Carol. I want us to be together."

Bless him. Like in the morning, he found the right answer. He spoke to a part of me that I didn't want to recognize. I didn't want to be replaced by younger versions of myself. As much as I knew my husband, knew that this was absurd, I'd unconsciously laid a subtle trap. He didn't take the bait.

Still, I was in an obstinate mood. Lack of clarity makes me that way. "To play with your cock, together."

He held my shoulders and looked into my eyes. "Yes," he said, softly but clearly. "Please?"

The last word, slightly tentative. But plaintive too. In the moment, I knew that I was truly not alone.

#### Chapter LXXXIII (Rick)

Fucking Gale.

No, I didn't want to fuck Gale. I was thoroughly married, happily so. Even more given the previous few days. Gale is attractive in her own way, but in some sense I felt like we'd already been through the arc of a long, difficult relationship over the course of two conversations. As much as she triggered my basest protective instincts, I couldn't avoid the fact that she'd taught me things. Men sometimes have the hubris to believe that we understand women. I thought I knew better. Now I knew better.

 _Hell hath no fury._ The soundbite doesn't do the sentiment justice. There would be no scorning in our family.

The morning after I'd baptized Caroline, Stephanie was in my bed. To my extreme frustration, all I could think about was fucking Gale.

"I need to know what you talked about, Stephanie."

"I told you, Daddy. We talked about her." She was tugging at me slowly, distractedly, her head on my chest. My physical response was lagging. Much to think about. She desperately wanted to change the subject. "Did Caroline..."

"It just happened, Stephanie. It's not the same, with her. She's just exploring. It's not like... us."

"Cuz she's a baby."

"She's not... like you." This seemed to mollify, for the moment.

"She said Mommy helped. Does that mean..."

"No. I don't know. We still have to..."

"It's not fair."

"I'm hearing a lot of that lately."

"Cuz it's not."

"What did she tell you, Stephanie? Gale. What did she say?"

She was quiet for a bit. She pushed the covers back. Then, her head on my tummy. Her breath. A brush of her lips, just there, the tip.

"She told me that, Daddy. She told me how she did it. When her Daddy came to her room."

Another kiss, just below the tip, at the cleft. My physical response caught up. She laid my stiffness against her warm cheek. Kissed again, lower, then back up. A rain of little kisses, each in a different place.

"She told me the words. She told me how she made him happy. How she made him... come."

Her tongue ran up the length of me, the underside, slowly, tentatively. Then again, more firm. Her lips again, warm. Little bites along the ridge. I leaked. She paused. Her tongue. The sight was as compelling as the wet warm touch, her face a question, then an answer, then a smile.

"Mommy was right. You taste like you."

I drove my finger between her legs from behind, pressed inside my daughter's slick heat farther than I'd ever dared. A muffled squeak as she tensed and then pushed back, urging me even deeper.

"Use your hand. On the bottom. Lick the top." My voice was hoarse. She did. "Uhhhh. Fuck."

She giggled. Her tongue, slow but steady. Quick little laps like a kitten. Squeezing at the base. I grabbed her head, just in time. Pushed her down. _Fuck. No._ Pulled her back, just in time. Still, her chin. Her neck. My chest. We just breathed for a time.

"That's what she told me, Daddy. Other stuff too. But that."

My eyes were wide but unseeing. A crunch and a squeal from down the hall startled me back to reality.

Stephanie rolled her eyes and rolled off the bed, deftly scooping up her shirt from the floor and wiping herself with it.

"Caroline's up."

"Oh?"

"Ya. She's been spying on us. I put a bunch of toys outside her door so we could hear when she got up." And she was gone.

_Does that mean... she told me that... Mommy was right... other stuff too... spying on us..._

This twisted montage played incongruously over breakfast.

#### Chapter LXXXIV (Carol)

I processed. Rationalized. Panicked, and calmed. Basked in the normal times. We were close. I had my family. There was bliss beyond bliss.

I didn't really know if Rick was accepting, or embracing. If it was in his nature as it seemed to be in mine. If I'd led him, led all of us, made this inevitable. Perhaps it wasn't important how we'd gotten here. It certainly mattered what we did about it.

A few nights later, I tucked Stephanie in. She was quiet, her wheels turning inscrutably. I sat on the edge of her bed and pushed her hair back to better read her churning thoughts as they played out on her face.

"Somebody's pensive," I gently offered. She didn't deliver the punchline.

"I heard your door slam the other morning." A more direct probe. I'd connected the dots. She turned on her side away from me.

I rested my hand on her shoulder. She tensed. "I'm not angry, Stephanie."

"What if I am?"

"Then we should talk. That's how we deal with being angry. Not by hiding."

I waited. She wasn't ready to engage, or didn't know how. Not like I knew how either.

"I remember when you cut up your clothes..."

"Mom. I never did it again. I told you."

"Shhh. Listen, little one. I remember when I asked you about the boy you wanted to impress, about how old he was."

"Ya."

"I remember what you said. You said he was _older._ "

"Ya."

"And then I asked you if he was nice, and if he liked the same things you did, and you said that he was the nicest and he liked all the same things."

"So?"

"So. We weren't talking about a boy, were we?" I felt her tremble. "Shhh. I'm not angry. When I think about it, you told me the truth. You didn't lie. You just used careful words. I didn't understand then. But now I think I do."

Had I thought ahead of time about the things I'd done? I hadn't. They happened. I made them happen, without thinking. This seemed dangerous to me. Better to think. Better to plan. Better to be prepared. Still I found I wasn't prepared for what I'd been thinking and planning. Eventually the words came.

"We can both love him, you and I. We both do. I told you that he was twelve and I was ten when we met. That I loved him from the first moment, him and nobody else. So I understand, Stephanie. I remember how it felt in my tummy. In my all-over. I never cut up my clothes for him, but it wasn't because I wouldn't have. Things were different then. It just never occurred to me."

Her breath caught between her words. "I thought... you'd... hate me."

"How could I hate you for loving your father the way that I did when I was your age?"

"It's not supposed... to be... that..."

"That kind of love. Yes. Things are different now. I didn't know about sex. You do. You do because I taught you. So. How can I be angry? Or even surprised."

"Cuz. He's yours."

"Yes. But he's yours too. And Caroline's. We're all each other's. Nothing can come between us. Not one thing. Not ever."

Her small frame seemed to slowly unwind, her breathing more steady.

"You think about him," I said. "When you touch yourself." She buried her face in her pillow. I lifted the sheet and slid in behind her, wrapped my arm around her narrow waist. "I do too."

"But you get to..."

"Yes. But still, I do sometimes. It's lovely to think about him. Isn't it?"

The smallest of nods.

I was done with euphemisms, and with hiding. Every day I saw more of myself in her. Not a baby anymore, and much of that my doing. I needed my eldest daughter to know that in this, we were somehow equals. I let my hand slip down to her thigh. It was bare. Just a tshirt. One of Rick's. Apropos. I cupped her mons. No underpants. No surprise.

"Let me tell you," I said, "about your father's cock."

#### Chapter LXXXV (Rick)

New Year's Eve. Another holiday. I was a little sad when I woke up alone. The house was quiet, which was pleasant in its own way. An oasis of normalcy. In the pale winter sun, things could be okay. _Other stuff too._ I read for bit and dozed again. _Spying on us._ Finally stretched and headed for the shower. My face was in the warm stinging spray when I heard the door open behind me, felt a rush of cool air.

And heard a giggle. I blinked away the pools from my eyes. Looked down. Four extra bare feet. Two were tiny. Two were larger.

"Well. Hello there."

"Hi Daddy," said Stephanie. Carol just smiled.

They pushed me out of the way unceremoniously to get to the stream. Took the soap. Washed themselves. Washed each other's backs. They chatted. I was largely ignored but I didn't mind. I didn't pay attention to what was said. It was a beautiful sight. It began to have an effect on me.

Stephanie noticed. Carol noticed Stephanie. They exchanged a look. Carol handed Stephanie the soap. I met my daughter's eyes.

 _We talked about this,_ my face implored. She wrapped her slippery fingers around me. _This is mine,_ she said silently.

My wife's arms at my waist, my daughter's hand, washing. Then working. Both hands. Relentless. Determined.

"Oh God." I'm not religious, but there was a sense of redemption. Together at last. I watched her hands, caressed her face with my gaze. I didn't last. Stephanie held me as I softened. The shower washed away the evidence, the essence of the ecstasy. In a dreamlike state, I kissed my daughter's wet hair. At some point through hazy eyes and ears I knew that the little one had left us.

Carol held me from behind. I was dizzy, and dripping. I couldn't see her face. Stephanie's bare bottom receded through the steamy glass.

Carol's voice at my ear. "That was lovely," she whispered. Despite the closeness, the sound seemed distant.

I swallowed. "It was... astonishing." We were emerging from the forest, hand in hand, a green grassy glade in the sunshine greeting us after our long and difficult journey.

"Yes. Good word for it. Astonishing. You're so good with words." Her tone was odd, her speech strangely measured.

"You talked to her, I guess."

"Yes. I told her that we could both love you. That we all belong to each other."

"So you told her it was okay."

"Yes. I did. I told her it was okay." She shut off the water. There was a tension building that I didn't understand.

"What is it, Carol? Are you all right?" I turned to her. She studied my face carefully.

"Rick. Love of my life." She held my eyes for a moment but then looked down.

"Carol. What's wrong? I know we talked about it, but if you've decided... not... then... I understand."

She shook her head, turned away. "No. Not that. Something else."

I waited. She stepped out of the shower, wrapped herself in a towel. I followed. Reached out to touch her cheek. She pushed my hand away.

The hurt that flooded her face was crushing. I felt my knees go weak. When she met my gaze again, it was with a fury I'd never seen.

"I told her it was okay, Rick. I didn't tell her _how._ It's not possible that this was the first time she's done that."

#### Chapter LXXXVI (Carol)

So many things suddenly made sense. How could I have been so blind? How could my husband have let me stumble in the dark, let me abase myself, let me wallow and flagellate in shame? The arc of Stephanie's questions, of her emotions, of her actions - it all fit together now. And Rick, the noble facade, deigning to accept the obscene perversity of his spouse, playing the innocent. The priest in the confessional, listening to the prurient sins of his flock while the alter boy kneels between his legs, little mouth stuffed full of God's Forgiveness.

That things now made sense didn't make them any easier to accept.

"How long, Rick?"

He was sitting on the bed. I was pacing, wrapped in a towel, the pattern of dripped water from my hair tracing a figure eight on the floor. The symbol of infinity. Perhaps I'd be walking in this loop forever.

"Months. Since shortly after we started going to the club. Carol... I..."

I held up my hand. "My turn, Rick. Just answer." He swallowed. Nodded. "How far?"

"Mostly what you saw in the shower."

"Don't fuck with me. Don't you dare, right now. Don't say words like _mostly_. You've been oh so clever, with your words."

"Oral. A little. Recently."

"Fuck. You on her."

"Yes. Twice."

"Her on you."

"Once."

"Nothing... else?"

"No."

I went into the bathroom and closed the door. Dried myself. Put on a robe. Went back to the bedroom and started to pack a bag.

"Carol. Please. Can I..."

"No. You can't. Not right now. I'm too ashamed of myself to listen to you. Ashamed and humiliated by the one person who I thought... who I knew... would never do that to me. The person who would always protect me, even from myself. You let me think I was alone when the one thing I needed more than anything was to not be alone. You let me feel afraid, degenerate, even as you said it was all okay. You let yourself be better than me. Even though you weren't. I thought we were equals, Rick. That's the deepest cut. That you thought it was okay to play the saint, to let me imagine you as my redeemer, when in fact your were just leading me... where? Where were you leading me, Rick? Leading our family? What were you imagining? I can't even..."

"I was never leading. I was as much along for the ride as you."

"Do you really expect me to believe that? If that was true, why the hiding? Why the silence? You must have told Stephanie to hide too. You conspired against me, you and she. When you should have been talking to me, telling me the truth, instead you fucked me into silence. I remember that day, when it was an odd time to fuck. When in my shame, you shut me up with your cock. You said it was an act of acceptance. I guess you were just horny from hearing about me and Caroline. A fucking lie. Literally."

He was quiet. I stopped packing. "This doesn't make sense," I said.

"I know, Carol. It's not... like me."

"No, Rick. What doesn't make sense is for me to leave the house. That won't work. There's too much to do here. The girls have school. What makes sense is for you to leave the house."

"Carol. No. You can't mean that."

"I can and I do. I need time to think, about all of this. I'm not going to be able to do that with you here. And this thing you said... _It's not like me._ People sometimes do things that aren't like them. I see it in court. Impulsive acts. Crimes of passion. Those don't go on for months, Rick. They happen and then they're over. So I have to say, I think this must be just exactly like you. It's just a part of you that somehow I never knew. Get out. Now."

#### Chapter LXXXVII (Rick)

I left. There wasn't another choice.

When I finally was alone and had time to think, I couldn't blame Carol in the least. She hadn't condemned me for what I'd done with Stephanie. She's not a hypocrite. It was the deception that violated our trust. That's the sacred part of a marriage, of any relationship. For us, it was also equality, a matching need. We subjugated ourselves to our dependence on each other. Somehow I'd lost that.

Perhaps it was how I saw Carol in Stephanie. I wallowed in a memory, let myself revisit twelve-year-old me, hoped to evoke the intensity of that first blush of love. I craved the indelible searing heat that brands its mark deep into your flesh at the start of things. I got hard the first time I kissed ten-year-old Carol. It changed me forever. The echo of it became compelling and needful as I looked forward to coming years. It was juvenile of me. I regressed to adolescence, with all the selfish, unthinking stupidity that implies.

#### Chapter LXXXVIII (Stephanie)

Mommy was sitting on the bed. I only heard some of what happened but I knew it was bad. She was crying.

"Where's Daddy?" I asked.

"You would ask that, wouldn't you?"

Her voice was mean. I felt like I was going to throw up. I started to go back to my room.

"Stephanie."

I looked back from the door.

"It's not your fault. I'm not... angry with you."

"Ya you are. I can tell."

"Okay. I guess I am. I don't want to be."

"Mommy. I'm s-sorry. I didn't... I mean... Daddy said you wouldn't understand. Not yet. But he said that you would, sometime. I thought that was now. But I guess not."

"Daddy's going to be away for a while."

"Why?" My knees were shaking. This time I really did ruin everything.

"Because he hid from me. And you did."

"So now he's hiding?"

"Maybe I'm hiding."

"You said when we're angry we don't hide. We talk."

She laughed in a weird way. "That's easy to say, Stephanie. I'm sorry that I made that sound easy. Sometimes it's not easy."

"When's he coming back?"

"I don't know. Stephanie... sweetheart..." Her voice got softer. "Did he... make you?"

"Huh?"

"Did he make you... do those things?"

I guess I looked at her like she was crazy. "Daddy loves me. I love him. I wanted to."

"But did he... tell you?"

"No. I kinda told him."

She looked like she didn't understand. "When we went to that room at the pool. I was shy and scared and you told me I was being a baby so finally I went there with Daddy and when we took off our stuff... I dunno. It felt nice. I looked at him twice. He looked at me twice."

She covered her face in her hands. I went to my room and rolled up in a ball like one of those bugs you find under a rock and I cried til I couldn't anymore.

#### Chapter LXXXIX (Rick)

Alone in my hotel room, I replayed my relationship with Carol. How we'd built our deep, seamless trust over the years. The memories made it all the more obvious how badly I'd just shit all over it. How I'd forgotten how we'd always shared everything.

One afternoon in high school I found her in her bedroom, crying uncontrollably. I honestly thought that perhaps one of her parents had died. Instead, she just handed me the book she'd been reading. _Persuasion_ by Jane Austen.

"It's just... the most... beautiful thing..." she managed to sob. I had to stop myself from laughing. But as with many of our moments, that one was a blessing. I read the book, and eventually most of Austen's work. We read them together. Her words taught me how to love openly, to better understand what it means to be devoted, and how bad it is to be a scoundrel.

Lots of movies have been made of Austen's novels. Some are lovely, others horrible saccharine schmaltz. _The Jane Austen Book Club_ is one that we saw together. There's a line in that movie that always stuck with me, as it seems to go to the core of so many of her plots.

_"Let us never underestimate the power of a well-written letter."_

Writing is words that stay. Persistent words can sometimes bridge the seemingly impossible gulf that separates true lovers from their destined bliss. Darcy to Elizabeth. Wentworth to Anne. I was just desperate enough to believe that such a thing was possible.

So, I started to write. To type, I should say. This would need some editing, as I intended to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but. Whatever the consequences, Carol would know that I wasn't hiding anything anymore.

This is how I began:

My dearest Carol,

This is an explanation, not an excuse. I have no excuse, only abject regret at my impossibly selfish abuse of your trust. I want you to know what happened, and what I was thinking, and what I was feeling. So here it is, all of it.

_'Family Changing Room.' I kept reading the sign on the door over and over. It had a stick-figure icon of a tall person holding the hands of two small people, one on each side._

__

__

_We were taking a tour of our new local health club. It's a beautiful place, with two pools, indoor and out, and every modern exercise facility you can imagine. I was with my wife, and our two daughters. Stephanie was eight and three-quarters (never to be confused with just eight) and Caroline was six. They were very excited about the possibility of having a pool to go to regularly..._

#### Chapter XC (Carol)

I didn't want to read the letter. What a stupid prank, thinking he could make up to me with words. He'd fooled me with words, careful clever words.

But words are such a part of us. I had to read the first word, and the second. And as the others followed, I saw that they weren't careful words. They felt real. I recognized every word we said, every twist and turn, every feeling. I couldn't stop until the last.

And then I couldn't stop writing. I poured myself out onto the page, telling my story, echoing the truth. And I went to my daughters, and I held them, and we talked. I didn't hide. They told me their parts of the story and they fit and they made Rick's words more real and I helped to write them down. And we sent them back, all of our words.

"Will this bring Daddy back?" asked Caroline. I couldn't answer.

The words helped me to understand. There was clarity, for what it was worth. But still I knew not how I felt, or what would happen.

#### Chapter XCI (Carol)

It's strange that I chose a profession that's all about resolving conflicts when my natural tendency is to avoid them. In my work I seem to be able to separate the emotion from situations, to get to the facts and use them to construct a picture that allows everyone involved to better understand each other.

This was different. I was living in the swamp into which we'd wandered. I had new empathy for my clients.

Constructing our shared story at least gave me the full arc of the journey to consider. The process reopened the cuts of my shame. Fed my disappointment as I recalled each occasion when Rick could have told me and decided that he wouldn't. Forced me to confront how I'd been unable or unwilling to see what was in front of me. Drove me to rage as I learned what had happened with Gale. Fucking Gale. Back to her in a bit.

Over a few lonely and difficult days I was gradually able to step back from the blinding intensity of these feelings and consider what had actually happened. Rick said, _I was as much along for the ride as you._ This wasn't completely true. It wasn't totally wrong either.

Stephanie told me, _Daddy said you wouldn't understand._ That was more true than I wanted to admit. My gentle cuddles with Caroline, my motherly guidance to Stephanie, even as these progressed to be more explicitly about physical pleasure. Just us girls, exploring and learning and loving each other in ways that flowed naturally from our closeness. But then Stephanie expertly jerking off her Daddy in the shower, their eyes locked in lovers' heated embrace, the look on Rick's face familiar to me, the face that I saw looking up at me when I rode his cock in our marital bed. These things are quite different to me. Perhaps that makes me a hypocrite. So be it.

Was I jealous? I suppose so. I'd led Caroline's hand to Rick's cock, but that was me, in the moment, willingly sharing, bringing us together. Stephanie naked with Rick in our bed, in my bed, holding his cock, my cock, he licking her, him not licking me. There were moments where I hated it, hated them, hated him, hated her.

Rick hadn't encouraged her. Not much. Not sexually. But he'd certainly fallen for her. He loved her in ways that I thought were reserved for me. I tried to hear the words in his letter, how he loves her because she's me, the echo of me from when we first loved. These words seemed true. I could understand. It still hurt like a motherfucker.

But for all that, these weren't the reasons I threw Rick out of our home. As my perspective cleared, I understood what he'd said so clearly in his letter, all pretence finally abandoned. He violated our trust. He didn't tell me, even when I was abjectly kneeling before him in my shame. He pretended to accept me and my horrific flaw rather than admit that he too was lost in the swamp. He made us separate when we should have been together. We could have come through it. It would have been very different. I think.

Rick doesn't like conflict either. He took the easy path until forced to do otherwise. He went with his instinct instead of his heart. He'd hoped to fool me, to trick me with clever words, to bring our narratives together without sharing the pain. Me the instigator, holding the blame for all of our sins, mine and his, he the beneficent granter of acceptance. He'd accept my depravity. With feigned reluctance he'd also accept blowjobs from our daughters, all from an enlightened sense of duty to family unity. Mommy's a pervert, but she's our pervert.

I chose the other path, the hard path. I wasn't sure how our paths would meet again.

#### Chapter XCII (Caroline)

I don't get it. It makes me mad. So I asked Mommy.

"You made Daddy go cuz him and Stephanie did sex?"

She looked like she didn't want to talk about it. I sat on her lap right on top of what she was reading. She still didn't talk for a while.

"Not exactly, Caroline. It's more complicated than that."

"He's not here. That's not complicated. It's stupid."

"Caroline. We don't use that word."

"Maybe we should when something's actually stupid."

"Daddy didn't tell me. He kept secrets. It's a way of lying, keeping secrets that matter. Families don't lie to each other."

I thought about that. "That's bad," I said.

"Yes, little one. It made me very sad. And angry."

I twisted around in her lap and held her neck. "I wish he didn't do that. The not telling."

"Me too."

"I guess it's hard to tell about it cuz you didn't tell either."

"How do you mean, sweatpea?"

"You didn't tell Daddy. About the bathtub. You didn't tell him til I said it. That day in the bathroom when everybody got mad."

She didn't say anything. She kissed me on the top of my head. We stayed that way a long time.

#### Chapter XCIII (Carol)

Caroline was right of course. She pretty much always is. It's annoying sometimes.

But it was different, she and I. What mother hasn't at some point sexually fondled her six-year-old daughter?

I had to laugh at myself. How many times had I heard something just like this?

_Yes, your honor. I slapped my wife. I guess I slapped her pretty hard, since she had to go to the hospital. But I mean, who hasn't done that? You know how it is. She drives me crazy. It just happened._

I thought back on that day, in the bathroom. The facts spoke for themselves, as they often do. He was hard. I was wet. Knowing made him want to fuck me. Telling him made me want him to fuck me. And we fucked, odd as it was. It was an answer for us, in the moment. It was where our paths diverged. He didn't tell me, in the moment. At each moment after that, it was more difficult for him to tell me. He was afraid of how I would react. He was right to be scared. He was helpless before his feelings, as was I. He was still wrong to make us wander apart.

**************************

I couldn't let the Gale thing slide. Who the fuck did she think she was? I told myself that I'd handle it well.

The when and where of it wasn't easy. I wanted her on my turf but out of earshot of the girls. I sent her a text asking her to come over on a school afternoon when I was working from home.

We sat. She sensed that things had changed. "I haven't seen any of you at the club. Is everything okay?"

"No. I know. Everything."

She took a deep breath and nodded slowly. "Good," she said.

"Yes. Good that I know."

"Are you going to blow things up? If you are, I could use a referral to a good lawyer."

My astonishment at her ability to make light of the situation distracted me from my anger enough to allow some thought.

I measured my words. "When I meet a perpetrator, my inclination is to ask them, _What's wrong with you? Why did you do that?_ I've learned that it's more helpful instead to ask, _What happened to you? How did you come to be who you are?_ In your case, I guess I know."

"I had a similar conversation with Rick. It's pretty clear for me. How about you?"

"I'm not like you."

"You're not unlike me, either."

"You took advantage of my daughter. You exploited her feelings so that you could molest her."

"You created the feelings that drove her to want to confide in me. You failed to molest her when she was painfully aware that you were having special times with her sister. She thought you didn't love her. Rejected by her mother. In a very confused state about her relationship with her father. She needed someone to talk to. You weren't available. I understand rejection. I saw it in her face. It made me sad, and angry."

I had to stop myself from slapping her. "You're a predator."

"You're sexually attracted to your children. You acted on it. So am I. So did I."

"They're my children."

"That gives you the right to have sex with them. Is that your point?" She looked down. "Carol. Look. I've wrestled with these things my entire life. I know all the feelings, all the shame, all the doubts, more so than I hope you ever will. I am what I am, and I did what I did. Same with you. And like you, I never meant any harm to any member of your family. Quite the contrary. Can we get past the blaming?"

"I'm not sure that we can."

"You know what happened with my family."

"Yes. You exposed your abuse and the family was broken up."

"How easily you use that word, _abuse._ You know why I did that?"

"You felt abandoned by your father when it turned out he only wanted you when you were..."

"Yes. Do you think it's the same with Rick?"

Her question forced me to think about this. It wasn't the same. It gave me an odd sense of comfort, but I wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

"I don't want to talk about my family with you."

"What do you want to talk about, then? You did invite me."

"I want to know that you regret what you've done, and let you know that you're never to come near us again."

"I don't regret it. The other is your choice, of course. I feel better now that you know. You'll be sure that things are okay."

"I'm so glad that you feel better."

"Sarcasm becomes you. You're good at it. Your whole family is insanely good with language."

"You taught my daughter about oral sex. You encouraged her, with her father. You're trying to relive your trauma. You want to ruin us. Misery loves company."

"Very lawyerly of you. If I wanted to ruin you, I could have already. What's my motive, counselor? What's my modus operandi?"

"You want to see others suffer because you did."

"I want to see others not suffer, because I did. And perhaps in the process, heal myself."

"So fucking noble. Was that what you were thinking when you stripped Stephanie and licked her?"

She actually chuckled. "You hope to shock me with your language. Obscenity doesn't suit you. You prefer decorum, even now. Here's the shocking thing, Carol. What I did, you would have done. Probably still will do, sooner or later. Your head between her legs, your tongue wrapped around her clit. You watch her face when she cums. I know this. Get over yourself."

"Well then. I hope it pains you to know that you've broken this family too."

"Oh. Did you and Rick fight over this? Really?"

"He deceived me."

"So we're clear that it's not the sex that's the issue here. It's the lying. And that's because of me, somehow?"

I made myself not respond. I was grasping, hoping for someone to blame. After a moment, she went on.

"What are your choices, Carol? Pretend the whole thing never happened, go back to some semblance of your life before? Not likely. Go on without your husband? How does that make anything better for anyone? You're perfect for each other. You love each other. Your daughters adore you both, and you them. They're amazing, a testament to all of that. Find somebody else? Ha. They'd be in for a surprising education."

"I don't feel the need for family counseling from you."

"If your incredible family is broken, you need it from someone."

"Please go now."

She left. I scrubbed the cup she'd been holding until it shattered in my hands. I saw the blood but didn't feel the pain.

#### Chapter XCIV (Stephanie)

I went right to my room when I got home from school. The house is weird without Daddy and Mommy's mad at me even if she says she's not. I turned the music way up.

_Here we go, on this crazy ride  
Here we go, in this crazy life,  
'Cause, 'cause don't you know?  
We're all a little insane sometimes._

Even with it loud I heard the knock. "Go away," I said. A minute later another one. "Okaaaayyyyyyyy." Caroline stuck her head in.

"It's really loud."

"I like it that way."

"Hurts my ears."

"Finnnnnne." I turned it down.

She closed the door. Her eyes were all puppy. "W-what's gonna happen?"

"I don't know."

"It's your fault. That Daddy's gone."

"Is not."

"You should have told Mommy."

"You don't know anything."

"I know Daddy's not here."

"You think I don't know that?"

"No. Just. I'm s-scared." She wiped her nose on her hand.

"Me too."

She sat on the bed. "Mommy not mad about the... stuff. She's mad about the not telling."

"Daddy was gonna tell her. Just when it was okay."

"When is it okay to not tell?"

"I guess... when telling would be worse."

"I don't think it could be worse than this."

"Ya it could. Like if we told somebody else."

"You told somebody else."

"That's different. She understands."

"I hope so."

"I know so."

She kicked her feet. I knew what that meant. I made room. She laid next to me.

"Did she really do that?"

"Who? What?"

"The pool lady. You know. With her mouth."

"Ya."

"You let her?"

"Ya."

"That's so weird."

"Ya. But."

"Then Daddy did it?"

"Ya. He does it to Mommy. I mean... he did..."

"I w-want Daddy back. I don't want them to be mad."

"Me too. Me neither."

"It's not your fault."

"Maybe it is a little."

"Me too. Maybe a little."

Her face was wet. Mine was too. I kissed her. She kissed me back. We did that for a while.

"Take everything off," I said. She wiggled out of her stuff. I did too. Then we did hands for a while. She was pretty good at it by then. Still not like Daddy but. She said I wasn't like Mommy. I guess grownup just know more. I liked her fingers there anyway. It made me not think what else was going on.

"Do it harder," I said. She pinched my button and it made sparks go up my back. "Do what you do to Mommy. To her chest." She looked at me funny but she did it. Her mouth on my chest. It made them all crinkled points, tickling but not and it went all the way down right between my legs.

"I'm gonna do it," I said.

"The end part? I like that part."

"No. I'm gonna do it. To you. What she did. What Daddy did."

"But... it's..."

"Shut up. It's... just... tell me if you want me to stop."

She chewed her lip and nodded a little. I kissed down her tummy like Daddy did. And I kissed her there like Gale did. And I pretended I was making little licks like a kitten like Gale told me. And I pressed harder like Daddy did. It tasted kinda strange and my nose bumped her and it was so amazing how soft it is. Her legs went wider so I thought it must be okay and I pushed my tongue in a little but it's so small so I went back and put my mouth right on her button like Gale did and then she went all stiff and breathed funny and her face had that far away look and I knew that she liked it and I did too even if it was weird and we both forgot about other things for a little while.

After that we remembered. You can't just forget because it's still there after. We remembered the other things and we talked.

#### Chapter XCV (Carol)

Six fifty-five AM. I opened my eyes. Blinked as my vision focused. Four soft brown eyes met mine.

"It's early," I said.

"We're lonesome," said Caroline.

Rick's side of the bed was empty and cold.

"I am too." Somehow it was easier to admit this to them than it was to myself.

They crawled in, one on each side.

"Is this a conspiracy?" I asked.

"What's that?" said my youngest.

"You're ganging up on me."

"Oh. Ya. Totally." Unashamed.

I tucked them each under an arm. As essential as my arms. Extensions of me. Echoes of me.

We just basked for a little while. The words were pent up, waiting for the calm cozy that lets them out. It was hard to find.

Stephanie finally did. "The not telling was bad. I was bad. Daddy was bad. I hated it. I think he did too. Mommy... I'm s-sorry."

I squeezed her. "I know, Stephanie."

She trembled. "I won't do it anymore. I promise."

I didn't want to torture her. But I did. "Won't do what?"

"I... won't do... whatever you don't w-want me to."

"I was bad too," added Caroline. Her words took longer to form and had to catch up. "I knew stuff but I didn't tell."

I was quiet. Stephanie sobbed. Caroline hid her face, but her voice rose above the muffle.

"Don't be mad forever, Mommy. Please. Not forever."

_Be not conformed to this world: but be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind, that ye may prove what is good, and acceptable, and perfect._

I didn't know this from Bible study. It was carved in stone above the entrance to one of the buildings at Law School. What I learned later is that whoever put it there had changed the last bit of the verse, the part that would make it meaningful to a believer. The full conclusion reads: _that ye may prove what is that good, and acceptable, and perfect will of God._ Convenient adaptation, interpreting what we see as we wish it were. As we all do, every day, all the time.

 _Good, and acceptable, and perfect._ Perfect might be no more. That perfect might be gone forever was ice in my heart, frost in my lungs, a driving sleet in my brain.

I am not conformed to the world. My will, not God's, had transformed us. Not alone, but my part was essential.

 _Good, and acceptable._ A little further trimming of the original sentiment.

"No. Not forever. Never forever."

We clung tight to each other until the alarm sent us back into the world to which we do not conform.

#### Chapter XCVI (Carol)

In my dream I was ten years old, sitting on my bed in my childhood room. Rick was there beside me. Not twelve-year-old Rick. The full-grown one. He was smiling at me softly while unbuttoning my shirt. I felt my face glow hot, my hands in my lap, my tummy in a knot.

"Mom!" I said, raising my voice. My mother's face appeared at my door.

She shook her head and sighed. "Don't be a baby, Carol," she said. "You think about him when you touch yourself, don't you?"

"Mommy?" I said, my voice trailing off, weak and distant. But she was gone. So was my shirt. I was on my back. My underpants around my ankles. I tried to cover myself with my hands but Rick's head was there. And his lips, and his tongue.

I woke up sweating, short of breath. And aching wet. I thought of him as I touched myself.

**************************

There was a splinter in my brain that wouldn't stop stabbing into my thoughts. It was Gale. The more I reflected on our conversation the more I had to admit that she knew things that might help me not destroy the rest of my life and that of my family. I forced myself to call her.

"Can you talk?"

"You want to talk to me? Or blame me some more."

"Talk. Ask questions. Listen. I'm still angry, but..."

"Just a minute." I heard background noise. Voices. A door closed. "Okay," she said.

"When did it start?" I felt like I was blurting.

"Right to the heart of it."

"Sorry. This is awkward."

"It's okay. I understand. Not totally comfy for me either, much as I might seem imperturbable. I was Caroline's age."

"Did he force you?"

"No. He was... persistent. But I was willing. I wanted his attention. I liked how it felt. I knew it was secret but didn't know... what the consequences could be."

"The consequences."

"They were bad."

"Was that... inevitable?"

"Perhaps. But I know what you're asking. For you, I think not."

"Why not? What's different?"

"Rick is different. My father couldn't have cared less about my mother. I think he may have gotten married just to produce children that he could have sex with. That contributed to me thinking of her as less than a person too. Made it easier for me to think of myself as Dad's true wife."

"Oh."

"He talked to me that way, about how I was better than my mom. At everything."

"That's... sad."

"In retrospect, yes. But at the time... what girl wouldn't respond to that sort of ego candy?"

"I suppose so."

"Rick loves you completely, you and your daughters. First and most, in the family way. That's so clear to me. The other is just some extension of it, the attraction. Dad wasn't like that. He said the right things. He wasn't obviously cruel. But I knew, when he was done with me. I felt it. I saw it in how he looked at my sister."

I wanted to depose her like a suspect. I wanted to remain detached, but her words affected me. My questions seemed to come from somewhere other than my mind. "Did you get along? You and your sister? Did you..."

She anticipated my real question. "We were close. We argued like sisters, but she knew early on. And Daddy let me... teach her. He liked that a lot. Me showing her things. Encouraging her. Him watching us."

"Did you do..."

"Everything. Yes. But not all at once. He was patient in his own way. He didn't want to damage me, not physically. That would have raised difficult questions. And he had some interest in my pleasure. He liked to see me cum."

I was quiet.

"And you're different," she said. "Completely so. My mother... I can't even imagine her being... involved."

"Different. Yes." I appreciated her allowing me the euphemism. Not conforming to the world. "She never knew?"

"Not until I told. She worked nights. That's when he'd come to my room."

"Were you afraid?"

"At first. But he talked to me, sometimes for hours. When he was talking to me that way I almost didn't care what else was happening. And he woke me up, my body. Made me feel things. He was good at it. He'd lick me relentlessly. Needless to say, I got to like it. Crave it. Demand it. Do anything so that he would."

I couldn't speak.

"Carol?"

"Ya."

"Are you okay?"

"Ya. Just... thinking."

"Are you masturbating?"

"What? No." I yanked my hand from my lap as though my mother had burst in.

"I am. I was thinking about how I loved sucking his cock. Once I'd gotten used to it. How his face looked when it was in my mouth. Such power, a girl can have. It's still compelling to me. And such a horrible thing to lose."

I heard myself breathe in the phone.

She filled the silence. "Be honest with me. I'm being utterly and completely honest with you, Carol. I'm baring my soul. Are you wet?"

I couldn't say the word.

"If you know everything, then you know that I told Stephanie about my father and me. She was very curious. She asked. I didn't force it on her."

"I know."

"She was naked when I told her. In the Family Changing Room."

"I know."

"She masturbated as we talked. I don't think she even realized she was doing it. So unashamed. What a treasure. I watched her touch herself, so small and innocent. You've watched her too. You can't turn away from the beauty of it, can you?"

I should have been incensed. I should have hung up. She paused, gave me the chance. I didn't.

"We weren't really a family, Carol. We were some sort of brothel for my father. You are a family. You're the family I wish I'd had. Appreciate it. Own it. It's yours. Don't fuck it up."

"I... don't want to. Fuck it up. It must have been... terrible."

"It was. And I own it. I decided to destroy my family. I was a very angry teenager."

"You regret it."

"All the time. And then I don't, I see the good. And then I do. My sister wants to know why I waited so long. My Dad..." A long breath.

"What?"

"He didn't survive it. He drove off a bridge. They said it was an accident, but I've never believed that."

"I'm sorry."

"Thanks. I'm sorry too. All the time."

I didn't intend to say the last. It just escaped. "I don't want to be replaced. Like you."

"Of course you don't. Carol, he wants you both. Needs you both. Sees you in her and her in you. I see it too. I... want you, too."

I don't think she intended to say the last. It had the sound of words that just escaped.

#### Chapter XCVII (Carol)

The girls were asleep in a heap, cheek to cheek in Stephanie's bed. This is how I found them most mornings now, their hair overlapping in wanton puddles on the pillow, slender arms entwined. I wasn't surprised when I pulled back the covers. Stephanie bare from the waist down, Carolyn's underpants bunched around one diminutive foot, their hands exchanged and nestled at the parting of their legs. The serenity of their faces took my breath away.

They stirred as cool air invaded their nest, stretched like kittens.

"Hi Mommy," said my little one through a yawn.

"Good morning, lovebug." I made to comb her rampant mane with my fingers only to be met with impenetrable tangles.

She giggled out the obvious. "We got no pants."

"So I see," I said. I ran my hand up her leg and let it rest at her hip. She watched it. Stephanie blinked and pulled her sister to her chest like she was hugging her stuffed rabbit.

"Too early, Mommy. More sleep," my eldest mumbled.

Perhaps I was still in a haze from my dream. I slid in behind Caroline, her little form sandwiched. My hand moved over her hip, found Stephanie's hand, pressed us both into Caroline's smooth softness. Stephanie opened her eyes. They sought mine with a question.

"I understand now. It's okay. I promise."

She chewed her lip. I guided her hand.

"Make your sister happy, sweetpea. Be nice to her. I want to see that. I want us to be happy."

Stephanie was tentative at first. I leaned to her and kissed her cheek, and then her lips, a brief touch. "Lift your knee," I said.

I let my fingers roam over my eldest's smooth sex. Her hand moved with more urgency between Caroline's parted thighs. I swam in the pink glow of their cheeks, inhaled their breath as it came in timid pants.

Caroline whispered. "Do the thing."

Stephanie looked at me, uncertain.

"You know. The thing," said Caroline.

"What thing, sweetpea?" I asked. My voice, oddly calm.

"The mouth thing," she said.

Of course. Genie and bottle, never the twain shall meet.

I listened to the words I spoke. Somehow they didn't frighten me. "Do what she wants. Make her happy."

The nine-year-old eyes were wide, cheeks fire-engine-red. I pushed her hair behind her ear. "You said you'd stop doing anything I didn't want you to do. That was very brave of you. It meant so much to me. But maybe there's something else, too."

I made room, laid my hand on Caroline's chest, turned her gently until she lay on her back. The little one's eyes were closed as her sister's hand slowly worked at the subtle folds of her mons.

"What else, Mommy?" She was anxious.

"Things I want you to do."

She swallowed. "What things?"

"Things that feel right. Things that make us happy. Things we should share."

She looked down. I went on. "You did this already, didn't you?"

A slight nod. "Did it feel right? Did it make her happy? Did it make you happy?"

Caroline's eyes opened a slit. "Ya. It's nice. Weird. Gooey. But nice."

"I want to see," I said.

And she did. And I saw. And I touched. I prodded Stephanie's bottom until she flipped, her knees on either side of Caroline's chest, her mouth where it needed to be, the little short licks and then the longer ones. I saw hints of my husband in her nascent technique. I pushed inside her with a finger. Heat almost scalding. Deeper. Not a baby. Not her first finger. She trembled and she persisted. I pinched her stiff nub and twisted it until she squeaked and shook. And still, her tongue persisted. Caroline tensed and shivered and smiled. And we lay together that way.

Only at the end did I understand how angry I'd been. How I must have been angry, to do that, to tell her and to touch her that way. I held them, my two daughters, parts of me, echoes of me, and they looked at me with their questioning eyes, searching for my anger. I tried to let it melt into our together, to sacrifice it to our bliss, to let it go. But it was deep inside me, cold as the January rain.

#### Chapter XCVIII (Rick)

My phone rang. The screen said, "Carol." I took a breath.

"Carol," I said. "How... how are you?" I stood. Paced.

"Daddy. It's me. I took Mommy's phone."

"Stephanie. Please. Don't do anything to make things worse."

There was silence on the other end. Then a sniffle.

"I just wanted to... hear your voice."

I had to sit down. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I wanted to hear yours too."

"She said she won't be mad forever, Daddy."

My turn to be quiet. Then, "Thank you for telling me, Stephanie. I hope that's true."

"I think it is. I think... it's kinda weird but... she likes it."

"Likes what, princess?"

"The sex. We... did stuff. Her and me and Caroline. We did... different stuff."

"Different stuff?"

"I did. On Carolyn. What you did. What Gale did."

"And Mommy..."

"Mommy wanted me to. She wanted to see. She told me to."

"She told you? To..."

"Ya. To lick her."

I swallowed. "I miss you," I managed.

"I miss you too, Daddy. So much." A pause. "I got to go."

"I love you, Stephanie."

"Bye Daddy. I love you."

#### Chapter XCIX (Stephanie)

I never saw Mommy's face like that, when she caught me with her phone, when she saw who I called. I thought she was going to hit me. What happened was way worse.

"You sneaky little bitch," she said.

I felt sick and I tried to say I was sorry over and over but she wouldn't listen and she told me to just sit there just sit there you just sit there and you listen and you don't say a word and I was too scared to do anything else so I sat there and I listened and I never was so scared, not ever.

#### Chapter XCIX (Rick)

Thirty seconds later the phone rang again. "Stephanie. Please. Don't go behind your mother's back."

"Rick. It's me. There's a redial button." My wife. _Fuck._ I paced again. She went on. "I appreciate what you said. No more going behind people's backs."

"Yes. Thanks."

"What did you two lovebirds talk about?" Her tone was even, out of sync with the acerbic words.

"You."

"I'm touched."

"You're still angry." Stating the obvious seemed safe. Acknowledge her feelings. The books say that.

"Your use of the word _still_ implies that you have an expectation that I'll just get over it."

Nothing was safe. "Sorry. You're angry."

A quiet moment. "I needed to be angry. I was trying it on. Right now it suits me." Her voice became softer. "Stephanie's looking at me."

"She told me you said you won't be mad forever."

"She tells you everything." The edge had returned. "She misses you."

"I miss you. All of you, but you most of all."

"I was jealous. Am. Of you and her. You were right about how I wouldn't understand. Oh. Now she's crying."

"Carol. Please..."

"I watched her lick her little sister's cunny, Rick. She'd already done it at least once before, you see. So it was no big deal. I told her to, and she did. She's quite good at it. We've always known that she's a fast learner."

I heard a sob in the background. Heartsick. Dead inside. I was shaking.

"Carol. For all that I've done, I'm sorry. Take it out on me. In all our time... all that's happened... I've never known you to be cruel. Don't do this to Stephanie."

I heard the phone hit the floor. There was noise. "Hello? Carol?"

More noise. A confused two minutes. "Mommy threw up. Daddy... I'm scared." Stephanie's voice. Desperate.

Carol again, muffled. "Stephanie. Oh. God." Crying. "Stephanie. Oh God. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I can't... I can't." Silence. "I can't hate you."

More minutes passed. I thought about hanging up, or running home, or just... running. Finally, "Rick?"

"I'm here."

"This... isn't me. It can't be me." Empty. Broken. Me too.

"It's not, Carol. I know you."

"I hurt her."

"So did I."

"You didn't mean to hurt her. I did. I wanted to hurt her and she was sitting there looking at me and I..."

"I think you wanted to hurt me."

Ragged breathing. "I did."

"You did."

"I can't hate her. I can't... hate you. I can't even hate fucking Gale. Not without hating myself. I don't want to hate myself."

"You have no hate in you, Carol. It's one of the many reasons I love you more than life itself."

A breath. Another. "Even after all this time?" she said.

In the moment, I almost missed the cue. "Always," I said.

"Come home," she said.

"I'm on my way," I answered.

#### Chapter C (Rick)

The first days were tentative, even difficult. Talking, and quiet. The quiet was uneasy at first, but it got easier. The talking was careful. We'd shared the facts. The feelings needed more time to settle. We avoided the intimate. Stephanie and I touched in ways that fathers and daughters do. Carol watched us. Trust is fragile. Ours was badly sundered. Somehow we felt our love and our words and our quiet could knit it back together. We were asymptotic to normal.

Carol led us back together. We were all happy that she did. She's the strongest. Caroline may be the wisest. Stephanie is the kindest, even to her sister. I'm just the goofiest.

Said my wife at the Saturday breakfast table, "We need to talk. As a family."

The girls looked nervous. "Are we in trouble?" asked Stephanie.

"No. We just need some... rules."

Scrunchy faces, even from me.

"Stop it. This is important. We'll do it together, or not at all."

"It?" I ventured.

Carol sighed. "Yes. It. Sex. We're going to talk about sex over breakfast. Pass the juice, please."

I passed the juice. The girls stared.

"We're not going to pretend that it didn't happen," she said. "I... don't want to pretend."

"Me neither. I like it," offered our youngest.

"Duh?" Stephanie. Helpful emphasis.

Carol let it pass and summed up. "To hide those feelings seems... stupid."

Caroline covered her mouth. "Mommy swore."

Carol smiled. "I did. I was quoting someone very smart though." The little one smirked.

I would have supported her without question if she'd said _never again._ But we were a changed family, not conforming to the world. She understood herself, and us. The strongest. The bravest.

Stephanie looked at me. My expression instructed her to listen to her mother.

"So. Nobody makes anybody do anything that they don't want to do," said Carol.

Stephanie's eyes lit up. "Awesome. No homework. Or room cleaning. Or dishes. Or..."

Her mother's look stopped her. "You know what I mean."

"She means about sex," said Caroline, always one for clarity.

"And no hiding," said Stephanie, catching the spirit. "Never any hiding."

"And no telling others," said I. "Just us. For us, always telling. For others, never telling."

"And new things. We talk about new things. We decide together about new things," said my wife.

"Wait," said Stephanie. "Together, or not at all?"

"Together," said Carol.

"Does that mean I can't... in my room..."

"Oh. No. It means we don't hide. We tell. We decide. We share. You can still..."

"Masturbate," said Caroline, beaming. That's my smart girl.

"This is our family. Ours. Mine. We take care of each other. Nobody else matters the same way." Carol, definitive. Ortiz after the marathon, without the curse.

"What about Gale?" I asked, feigning innocence.

Three female voices spoke like an ancient Greek chorus. "Fucking Gale." This had emerged as a meme from our stitched-together story. We allowed the profanity but only because it was hysterical. It's a geek thing. The ties that bind.

After the laughter died down, Caroline tested the waters. "Do you and Daddy love each other again, Mommy?"

"We never stopped, sweetpea. People hurt each other sometimes, even if they love them. They say bad things, even if they don't really mean them." She was looking at Stephanie. Stephanie blushed. "But we talk if that happens. We don't hide." Her eyes met mine. I sank into her gaze, felt like I was truly breathing again for the first time in months.

"Are you gonna kiss and make up?" asked our seven-year-old.

I shrugged helplessly. "Oh, I expect we will," said Carol. Her smile was warm.

"Can I watch?" Caroline, through a mouthful of Raisin Bran. A fit of giggles took both of our daughters.

Carol wiped milk from the little one's chin with her thumb. "You've shown us how to be unashamed, lovebug," said my spouse. "I'm so done with shame. Thank you for that. It's a great gift."

Caroline shrugged. "Hiding is stupid. Mommy said it first," heading off the rebuke for cussing.

Home, and bliss.

### Family Changing Room - Epilogue

#### One (Rick)

I was still processing what was driving my wife. There was a deep energy flowing from her. It had been anger and jealousy. The intensity hadn't faded, but somehow she'd reshaped it into something else. A fierceness, an insistence, a focus. A mother lion, owning her pride.

At the breakfast table, even. Bringing us together. Setting our rules.

Caroline wasn't giving up. She pressed her question. "So can I watch?"

Carol turned her gaze to me. "What do you think, Rick?"

"I think..." I had to pause and imagine myself in this new forest, unlike the old one but perhaps just as confounding. I had to get my bearings. There was a path, through not yet fully blazed. I followed it. "I also think that hiding is stupid."

"Then everybody head for the bedroom," said Carol. I was a bit surprised that I was still capable of being shocked. My eyes were as wide as the girls'. There was a metallic clatter as three forgotten spoons dropped onto the kitchen table. "Go on," she shooed us with her hands. "Clothes off. On the bed. Everybody." She pulled off her own shirt, a flush flowing over her chest from her face, her nipples visibly erect. As resolute as she sounded, I could tell she was pushing her own boundaries. I didn't discourage her.

The girls shrugged at each other and scampered. I waited for Carol and followed her. By the time we got there our naked daughters were gleefully jumping on the mattress. My wife embraced me standing, pressed herself against me, merged our mouths, shoved her hand into my sweatpants and then pushed them down over my hips. I followed suit, our bottoms now tangled around our feet. We feel into bed that way, side by side, the girls a bracket around us.

"Are you gonna do the f-word?" said Caroline.

"We're going to make love, sweetheart. Because we love each other." As obscene as this was already, I still didn't want my preteens wantonly f-bombing.

"But I hear Mommy say that, when you do it," offered Stephanie. "You say the f-word a lot, Mommy."

"I guess I do. I do because I love it when your father fucks me." They smirked. Carol had me in her grip. We paired as equals, on our sides. "So fuck me, Rick. Here and now."

I slid into her easily, as easily as ever, embraced her lips with mine. Her heat swallowed me whole, searing me inside, a cauterizing burn. Soon a slow steady rhythm, Carol's knee draped over my hip, soft moist sounds from our slippery dance. Stephanie's breath at the back of my neck, her hand on my shoulder, then on my chest, her smooth skin against my back, moving with me.

"I can't believe it fits." A seven-year-old whisper. "That's... so... weird..."

"Shut up," said Stephanie.

I came in a shudder, grinding into her, buried to my root. It triggered my spouse to her own tremble, a deep sigh. No pyrotechnics. They weren't needed. I still saw stars.

We lay together as a family, a mound of soft tangles until it was time for lunch.

#### Two (Carol)

"What are you ashamed of, Rick?" In bed with my husband, the cool glow of the early Spring morning illuminating my courage.

I hated my shame. I hoped to purge it entirely. I wanted my family to do the same. Shame is fear and fear is the mind killer and fear almost killed us. First and maybe hardest we had to talk about it. It felt like sticking a finger down my throat, forcing me to vomit from the pit of my soul.

Rick sensed my seriousness. He thought before answering. "I'm ashamed of my cowardice. How I didn't trust you after you trusted me."

"Thank you. I know that one already, though. What don't I know? You go first. Then I will."

He swallowed. "I'm ashamed that I let things get out of hand with Stephanie."

"Better. But you're not at the heart of it." I knew I was torturing him a little, but it was needful.

"I'm... ashamed that she arouses me. That my nine-year-old daughter arouses me."

I took hold of him, gently at first, then more firmly. He was halfway stiff. I relished the feeling of his growth in my hands.

"There we go. Now me. This one is hard." He smiled, reminding me of where my hand was. I felt myself blush. He waited.

"When Gale told me about Stephanie. About watching Stephanie masturbate when Gale was telling her about her father, how he came to her room at night, how Gale loved to suck her father's cock... it got to me. It excited me."

Rick's hand found my warmth. His finger probed. My hips shifted to press my mons against his palm.

"Your turn," I said.

"The day that Stephanie cut up her clothes. In the car on the way home. I made her change her clothes, in a parking lot. She hid in the back seat. But I watched her. And when she was naked, I stopped her from putting her clothes back on. And I told her... I told her to touch herself. So I could watch."

I felt a surge of heat in my loins. "She was scared." I remembered, from our letters.

"Yes. I scared her. That's what I'm most ashamed of. I lost control, and she was afraid."

"Those are things we should be ashamed of, even now. When we hurt each other, make each other afraid." His middle finger penetrated me to its root, pushing a breath from my lungs.

"Now me," I managed. "I had a dream. About you. You as an adult, with me, as a child. When I was ten, like when we met. And you were in my bedroom and you were taking off my clothes and I called for my mother but she just told me not to be a baby..."

"We shouldn't be ashamed of our dreams, Carol."

"I'm not. I'm not ashamed of the dream. It came out of my shame, but it's just a dream. I'm ashamed that I've been thinking about it ever since, because it made me want to see it. To see you, that way, with Stephanie. To watch you taking off her clothes, and then..."

"Then... what? What happened in your dream?"

"You licked me. You were between my legs. I felt you there. When I woke up I masturbated, thinking about it. Thinking about you, with Stephanie."

I tugged at his cock, smeared his anxious dew over the swollen head with my thumb. My thumb on Caroline's chin, wiping away the milk. On my husband, slippery over his desire.

He grunted. "When she... when I was in her mouth... I almost... I wanted to... I wanted to hold her there..."

"You wanted to cum in her mouth."

"Yes. Desperately. I didn't. I didn't make her."

"Cum in my mouth." I was on him in an instant, nursing out the sweet clarity of his need. His compliance to my demand came apace.

"Now me," said I through sticky lips.

My husband consumed me, his hunger relentless. My dream played on my closed eyelids like grainy video of a secret visit in the night.

Movement on the bed. A child's hand in mine. My youngest, curled up beside me, our fingers laced, watching, her other hand tucked at her cleft, slowing taking her own pleasure. Her tshirt came only to her hips, nothing on the bottom. Rick's eyes met mine and he attacked my cunt with his tongue, forcing my body to plank in ecstasy, a guttural sigh, big hand squeezing the small.

I melted into a puddle of warmth. Rick kissed my tummy. I knew he was smiling even with my eyes closed.

"Now her," I said. I turned to kiss my baby on her lips. "Spread your legs for Daddy, little one."

She giggled, her knees shamelessly akimbo. Rick hesitated for just a moment, watching me, watching her.

"Okay," she said. And that was all that was needed. Rick was gentle, his hands caressing her miniature frame, pushing her shirt up over the plane of her chest, his lips slow and deliberate. I held her, stroked her hair, whispered sweet nothings in her ear, pulled carefully at a pale tan nipple. Her shivers mounted and passed, and again, toes balled tight.

After a time, after the shivers, Rick patiently lapping... a squirm, a scrunchy face. "Daddy. Too much. Feels funny." He kissed her tummy, rolled to the side, made a Caroline sandwich of us.

"I want to do that a lot. Daddy's good at it," she said.

"He is, isn't he? It's one of the very many reasons that we love him."

"Ya," she said. Then, "Breakfast?"

"Yes please," I said.

We watched Caroline's tiny bare bottom pad off to the kitchen.

#### Three (Stephanie)

I was so glad that stuff at home got figured out. I still kinda feel jealous of Daddy sometimes, but it's okay. We all got everybody so it's fair.

So Mommy finally let me go over to Andrea's house and even spend the night. And we're there and it's at night when you're supposed to be sleeping but you never do cuz that's boring so we both got in her bed and talked. And Andrea says, "I can't even believe what happened. At the pool. I can't even say it."

She's mostly shy and doesn't say stuff but I could tell she really wanted to. "I won't tell. I promise. You can say."

She turned her face to the wall and hid in her hands. "No way. I. Can't. Even."

"Okay," I said. I guessed she'd tell me if she didn't think she had to. I was right. She started talking so fast I could hardly hear her.

"So I go there and I'm in the lockers after swimming and my Mom isn't there cuz she was picking up my brother and the pool lady came and I was trying to hide under my towel and she said 'oh you're Stephanie's friend aren't you' and I said ya and she said really quiet 'I can tell you're shy, maybe you'd want to change someplace more private' and I guess I said that would be nice so she takes my hand and she takes me to that other room but she didn't just leave me there she came in with me."

"You mean Gale?" I said. I figured it was.

"Ya, the smile lady and then she just starts talking to me and she takes off her suit and she's standing there naked and watching me and she says 'I know it's hard to be shy, I used to be shy and it kept me from doing so many fun things,' and she says 'you don't have to be shy with me, I've seen lots of girls,' and I said well you haven't seen me and she laughed and said that's true but she made me feel like I was a baby so when she said 'do you want me to leave you alone' I said no it's okay and I tried to keep my towel on and I took off my suit and then she says like 'there you go, that's not so bad is it' and she goes to the shower and then says 'come on then, you should always shower after.'"

"Ya. That sounds like Gale."

"Ya so I did it. I went in the shower with her without anything on and I was wicked embarrassed but she just kept talking to me and I guess it was okay and then she said let me wash your hair and I let her."

"Wow. Was it weird?"

"Ya. Kinda. I mean, it's nice when somebody washes it I guess and I didn't have anybody do that for a long time so ya. But then like she was standing close behind me and I felt her... chest... on my back and her hands went down my front and she just kinda held me there and told me I was pretty."

"Wow." I was trying to sound all surprised and not say anything.

"Ya so. She dried me off everyplace. Like everyplace but she was talking the whole time and it was warm and kinda like she was being a mom and I guess I didn't mind so much so then we got dressed and she said if I wanted to come back to the room that I should look for her next time. Oh and she said tell Stephanie I miss her. So I told you."

"So it was okay?"

"Ya. I guess so. Weird. But."

"Ya."

We were both quiet for a while. I felt the bed move. I got closer to her back.

"Do you think about it? About her doing that?"

"Ya. I can't help it."

"Are you gonna go back?"

"Maybe."

I was scared about it but I wanted to so I put my hand over her hip and her arm was there and I followed her arm with my hand and it was between her legs. She pulled it away so I said, "It's okay, I do it too." I put my hand there over her pjs and she let me and I rubbed really gentle for a while and she pushed her bottom back against me. I thought that meant it was okay so I put my hand inside her pjs and touched her there and she opened her legs and so I did it like Daddy and Mommy showed me, doing her button with my finger and thumb back and forth and faster and faster and I felt her get all tense and then not and then we went to sleep.

#### Four (Caroline)

I was in the bath with Mommy and maybe I was making her crazy with questions.

"Daddy's penis is really big. How come it doesn't hurt if it goes in?"

"Our bodies are made for it, kitten. It stretches. It can stretch enough for a baby to come out, it can certainly stretch enough for Daddy to go in."

I couldn't even think about that.

"But..."

"You're small still, Caroline. Your kitty will grow as you do. Here."

She took my hand and had me touch her there. "Pinch your fingers together with your thumb," she said. So I did and she said, "You can push them all inside together. Just not too far." So I tried and it was pretty amazing cuz they went in right up almost to where my hand starts.

Mommy touched my arm. "More," she said.

"Doesn't it hurt? I don't want it to hurt."

"More," is all she said. So I pushed more and more went in and it was really warm. Mommy's hand went down there too and she started rubbing her button. She had a face like she did when Daddy was fucking her. Her bottom was moving and it made the water move too. Her voice was real quiet but she said "more" one more time so I pushed hard and it was like my whole hand went it there and she shook really hard and I felt it squeezing and squeezing inside.

"Whoa. That. Was. So. Cool," I said, cuz it was. When she opened her eyes again she had this funny smile.

"I didn't really mean for that..." she said. But then she stopped. Then she said. "Actually, I did mean for that to happen. In the moment, it's exactly what I wanted to happen. Thank you, love bug. That was... a very intense orgasm. I... came... very hard."

I squiggled my hand out and looked at it. It's bigger around than Daddy's penis but not all that much. So now I get that part but I still can't see how a baby comes out.

#### Five (Rick)

Reading in bed at night. So normal, so us, back to our solid ground. Perhaps onto new and different solid ground. But it felt solid.

Carol put her book down. "Are you horny?" she said.

The calm bluntness was a feature of our new solace. Before we'd more often start with a touch, then a word.

"To the extent that I wasn't already, that question has instantly made me so." I thought a thorough response was indicated.

"I want to watch Stephanie suck your cock." Remarkably the same calm voice, but her face gave her away. Knowing that this had happened before without her knowledge was perhaps the sorest point of our very sore times.

"Are you sure?" The words were out before I'd fully thought them through. I winced in anticipation of her response.

"Yes," she said, almost too quickly. She took my hand. I regarded her curiously as she led us from our bed down the hall until we were standing outside of Stephanie's room. Our bookworm, re-reading Harry Potter for the God-knows-how-manyeth-time. Her music was on quietly because her sister was already asleep.

_Deep in the night  
I take it all, it's all I ever had  
Far out of sight  
I wander off, you'd think that I've gone mad  
But I'm no monster  
A brand new world in the palm of my hands  
I'm no imposter  
Just simply lost in a wonderland_

She looked up. "Am I in trouble?"

"Should you be?" I asked. Parental instinct.

"No," she said. It seemed sincere.

"No, sweetheart. You're not," her mother, reassuring. Carol sat on the edge of her bed. "I want you to do something for me."

"You do? What?" Our eldest seemed a little anxious, wondering if her mother was still somehow angry.

Carol touched Stephanie's shoulder. "Shhhh. It's okay. I want to see... how you and your father love each other. I want to feel it, and be part of it. Is that okay? Would you do that for me? For us?"

Stephanie raised her eyes to me. "We came to your room, sweetheart," I said. She recognized the words. A small smile.

The scene triggered my memory. I knelt on the floor beside the bed. Stephanie set her book aside and sat up. I began unbuttoning her shirt. Pushed it off her shoulders. It was all she was wearing. I pushed back the covers and guided my daughter's legs to the edge of the bed. Parted them with a nudge. Sank my lips and tongue into her impossible softness. I felt Carol's hand resting on my head. In her breath, I heard the words... "My dream..."

Stephanie began to move, her hips twisting gently to meet my active mouth. Then Carol in my ear. "Stand up," she said. I did. Stephanie's eyes were hungry. Carol took my pants down, my hardness impeding the process only for a moment. My wife took me between her warm lips, leaving me wet and shiny, and then withdrew. She held my sac, deftly squeezing.

"Now you," she said to my nine-year-old. Stephanie and I both studied her face. There was nothing there but love and need, no hint of anger or fear or shame. And then Stephanie's lips took me ever so gently into their embrace. Carol kissed her ear, and her cheek. I couldn't stop myself from moving, just a little, sliding through the taut ring of her mouth. My primal grunt escaped unbidden.

"Don't cum," said Carol.

"Then Stephanie needs to stop. Right now." I heard the urgency in my voice.

Carol guided Stephanie's head back. The cool air on my insanely stiff organ helped defuse the imminent danger of eruption.

"Was I doing it right?" my daughter asked.

I almost laughed. "It's always right, princess. Everything done with love is always right."

"Lie down, Rick." Carol clearly had something in mind. I did as I was told, a human flagpole.

"Sit on him," my wife said. I sought her eyes, some small panic mounting.

Stephanie was also confused. She clambered to sit astride my hips, her smooth sex just at the parting of my legs. She must have connected the same dots that were crashing together in my head. "Daddy. Mommy. I thought about it. A lot. Gale told me. Her Daddy did it to her. Just... she was older..." She stared at my pulsing desire, her expression in no way consistent with her brave words.

Carol shook her head. "No, Stephanie. Daddy's not going to fuck you. That's... it's... not time for that. Just lean forward. Put your hands on his shoulders. And scoot your bottom up."

My spouse guided my daughter with hands on her narrow hips until the silk of her outer lips spread over me, pressing my shaft against my stomach, trapping it between us. My leakage and hers mixed as the top of her cleft met my ridges.

"Now back," said Carol. "Rub your button on him."

Stephanie moved back, and then on her own pushed forward again, leaning in, taking her pleasure from me. "Mommy. It's... oh God."

"Yes little one. Not inside. The next best thing, maybe. Make yourself cum with his cock. Make him cum with your kitty."

My gaze locked on my daughter. She moved, and I moved. Her face was the face I saw when first we'd watched each other, when she knew why there's so many babies.

Carol kissed me on the lips, then kissed Stephanie. "Bear down," she said. "You won't hurt him."

Stephanie mashed us together, her bottom twisting, masturbating herself against me. No shame. No fear. I clutched her hips and we shook together, my seed spreading over our merged bodies, and she lay in it, on me, in my cum, gluing us. We panted as lovers do, one shared breath, both of us encircled in Carol's embrace.

From the doorway, a seven-year-old voice completed our picture. "That was so awesome. Can I try?"

_I'm profoundly grateful to the readers who have shared encouragement and feedback.  
You can contact me at [joshua.woode@hushmail.com](mailto:joshua.woode@hushmail.com?subject=Family%20Changing%20Room)_


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